


Rebirth: Connected By Dreams

by Cocoon02



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-10-09 23:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoon02/pseuds/Cocoon02
Summary: The gift of eternity was more literal than they thought. 600 years after the Fall, Hope Estheim and his friends are still struggling with some inner demons when they're reunited to face them together—and maybe face each other.





	1. Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This particular story is very dear to my heart, it's a rewrite of the very first fanfic I ever finished writing, so I hope you enjoy this (much superior trust me) version! I'll post the first ten chapters one a week until I've caught up with myself, but after that I can't guarantee anything because college gets busy, you know? But I fully intend on finishing this so keep your eyes peeled!
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Chance Encounter

 

Hope Estheim held his breath and ducked inside the hollow trunk of a dying tree. This was bad. Behind him was a maniac—an old friend sick with revenge, and he was fairly certain that the only thing ahead was some sort of military encampment. It was a collection of perfect irony.

Surrounded on all sides, backed into a decaying, crumbling oak. He'd definitely been in better situations.

Unfortunately, he couldn't hide forever. Deciding to skirt the encampment as best he could, Hope crawled back out of the tree and started sprinting. The trees and general foliage around him were so thick that he had to hold back, which was _physically_ frustrating. He _knew_ he could run faster. If he hadn't been caught with his pants down in a forest, he would've escaped by now. As it was, he was faster than most, and easily kept ahead of his pursuer.

The military camp wasn't as large as he thought, making it easier to escape in what was essentially a straight line as he teased the edges. A loud chorus of shouting came from within. Hope hesitated, just for a moment. Something...didn't feel right. Something was wrong. The voices were filled with panic. He staggered to a near stop as his wrist exploded into searing pain, he couldn't keep himself from crying out.

And then the camp _actually_ exploded.

It could have been years later that Hope woke up, and he wouldn't have noticed. It hadn't been years, however; he could still feel the heat, smell the remnants of the explosion: the smoke, the electric scent new bombs carried with them, as though someone were burning a lightning bolt. Ashes flew in the air above him.

Two things hit him, then. First—which he wasn't sure how he missed—was half a fallen tree crushing him. He tried to move, and was less concerned with the pain than he was with the fact that he couldn't seem to free himself even the slightest bit. He managed to jostle the tree, but only about as much as a child could. It was clear that he was trapped, at least for the moment.

The second thing to hit him was the smell.

He had the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing this more than once: the smell of death. Reality came back to Hope in droves. He was being chased. He survived another explosion. The likelihood that any of the soldiers in the camp survived was minimal. He was trapped. He was injured. There was nothing he could do.

Hope turned his head to the left. He could see a few bodies from where he was, mostly burned beyond recognition, but one or two still had faces. He whispered a quick prayer to the goddess for their souls. He had no idea why the explosion occurred, but no one deserved to die like that. He offered another prayer, not so much to the goddess as to the past, that their deaths were quick and relatively painless.

Having offered his respects to the dead, Hope laid still. He needed to gather the strength to escape his current situation. As much as a considerable part of him was still reeling from the explosion, as much as he'd like to make sure these people got a proper burial, he couldn't allow himself to get caught. He didn't want to deal with what he'd have to do if he was.

He meditated, steeling himself to lift the tree, preparing himself for the pain that was sure to follow. He awkwardly situated his hands, scraping his fingers on the rough wood that remained underneath the charred bark. One strong effort should do it... With a deep breath, Hope poured all of his energy into pushing the damn...tree…

He inhaled sharply enough to actually hurt his throat. The pain wasn't just from the explosion, or being crushed. Something actually pierced him. He felt it now, somewhere near his stomach. Hope's arms wobbled in hesitation, but he knew he couldn't stop. He breathed in...out...in...and freed himself.

The remains of the tree crashed to the ground beside him, and mountains of ash puffed into the air like a storm. He tried as hard as he could to ignore the pain, but it was as though someone had stuck their hand into his abdomen. He couldn't look, he knew there was going to be more blood than he'd want to see. It wouldn't do to focus on his injury now; he'd be fine. He had to keep running.

With some difficulty, Hope managed to get to his feet. He was filthy, covered with ash from head to toe, and his clothes were partially burned in several places - not to mention covered in the blood he didn't want to see. He made note of these things while checking his surroundings. He couldn't see anyone living, but he doubted he had much time to make his escape. Making the decision without really deciding anything, he started to make his way through the heart of the destroyed camp.

Hope tried to keep his mind blank as he trekked through the carnage, stepping over body after body. Unfortunately, he wasn't very good at it. _So many faces passed through his mind_ —he pulled up his shirt to help mask the stench— _so many people he used to know_ —he knew something was wrong, he could've stopped and maybe saved some lives— _so many lives, destroyed, snuffed out as if they never existed—_ these soldiers, they had families to go back to— _he ran from it all, it was too much…_

Click.

Hope stopped. Someone survived. And their gun was likely pointed right at the

back of his head. He raised his hands slowly, not wanting to provoke them. If he wasn't careful, someone was going to get hurt.

And it was probably going to be them.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he explained cautiously, "I'm just passing through."

"Did you set that bomb?" the survivor snarled. It was a woman. Hope didn't answer, consumed by her voice before she even finished speaking. Something was familiar about it…

The woman's footsteps crunched closer to him. She mustn't have been too injured if she could walk. That was good. She pressed the gun to his neck sharply, "That bomb killed my men! Answer me! Did you set it!"

Pure rage radiated from her. Hope might not even have to make a mistake, she might shoot him anyway. He did his best not to move, "No, I didn't. I was nearby when it went off, and got trapped under a tree. I managed to escape, and now here we are."

She wasn't buying it, "We're in the middle of nowhere. You expect me to believe that you just 'happened' to be nearby?"

Hope kept his voice level, but he was starting to get antsy. He was running out of time. "I swear on my mother's grave, I had nothing to do with the bomb."

Slowly, the metal of the gun's nose left his flesh. He thought for a moment that he had convinced her, but he knew that argument wouldn't easily convince a stranger, and besides, he could still feel the gun hovering nearby. She was merely shifting focus to look at his face. He kept his eyes forward as she slowly came around on the right. Then, in his peripheral, he saw the color of her hair. A soft, rose-colored shade of pink. In that instant, his heart stopped. That color, the voice. No...she couldn't be…

Lightning Farron came clearly into his view.

For a moment, Hope regressed to a child again. He almost burst into tears upon seeing his old mentor. Partially because it had been so, so long since he had seen her, but mostly because the look of hostility hadn't left her face. Had it been that long? Had he changed that much? Or was it worse...had she forgotten him?

"Who are you?" she demanded.

His heart sank, "Lightning...it's me. Hope."

Her actual expression didn't change at first, but he saw the struggle in her eyes. Maybe the struggle of remembering him? Or maybe the struggle of matching his face with the eighteen-year-old she knew five hundred years ago. He knew he'd changed, but she hadn't. Not a bit. Her hair was a little longer, but her eyes were the same. Her face, the way she held herself. It was all...Lightning.

Finally, she shed most of her hostility, and lowered her gun. Hope saw now that it wouldn't have fired even if she tried. Most of it was melted, it was more than she could've asked for to make it click like she did. But the fact that she wasn't directly threatening him anymore meant that she probably believed him. He'd have to prove his identity.

"My name is Hope Estheim," he began, "And your real name is Claire. We met when I was fourteen, we were the l'Cie that saved humanity."

Lightning raised her gun back up a little, "You look like Hope, but everything else is in the history books. Everyone knows that."

Her hand was shaking. Hope realized that it probably wasn't that she didn't believe, she probably just didn't _want_ to believe. He must've hurt her more than he realized…

He took a deep breath, and looked her in the eye, "Two years after the Fall, Serah had a miscarriage. The only people who knew were you and me. She didn't get a chance to tell Snow before it happened. We found her sobbing in the bathroom."

Lightning froze. She had to believe now. Serah had made them swear not to tell a soul. There was no way anyone but the three of them knew about it.

The destroyed gun clattered to the ground, kicking up yet more ash. Lightning stepped forward, touched his face, looked into his eyes, made note of some old scars across his torso—made visible through the burns in his shirt—that could belong to no one else. "It...is you..." she whispered, astonished, "I...we...thought you died," anger started to flare up in her eyes again, her voice went cold, "Where the hell have you been? It's been centuries, Estheim! Not even a word from you!"

"I'm sorry, Light...it's been hard for me t-"

"Hard for _you_ ?" she snapped, following up with a swift smack to the face, "We've been worried _sick_ , worse than sick! Snow _alone_ spent fifty years looking for you! _Fifty!_ And now you just _show up_ in the middle of-" she stopped, suddenly remembering where they were and what happened, "Goddess, my men..." she turned to him, "If you didn't set that bomb, then-"

Suddenly, Hope's wrist burned again, worse than before. Everything went white. He tried to return to reality, but something was bothering him. Something...close…

Just as quickly, he snapped back. He found himself on the ground again, with Lightning shaking him.

"Hope! What happened? Are you alright?"

Hope got up, hyper-aware of everything around them. They weren't safe. They had to move, now. He grabbed Lightning's wrist and pulled her along, moving at a much quicker pace than before.

Lightning was able to keep up easily, but she struggled against him, "Hope, what are you doing!"

Hope pulled her the rest of the way out of the destroyed encampment and into the undamaged forest; he picked up speed, "I'll explain when we're safe, but we've got to go!"

Lightning struggled less, considering his words. "Fine!" she decided, "I know where we can go, we scouted out an old house a few miles away, it's got a bunker!"

Hope didn't stop, but let her go so she could guide him. A bunker sounded perfect. Lightning took off in a completely different direction; he pivoted quickly to follow her. He kept his eyes on her back, and realized how quickly they slipped into their old normal of having each other's backs, having only been reunited for a few minutes. Once they were safe, he would try to dispel her anger, try to explain. He knew he'd hurt everyone when he left, but…

They just didn't understand.


	2. Give and Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Just like I promised. To be honest, I wasn't sure anyone would be reading this—I mean let's be real, this isn't the most popular game—but I really appreciate you guys that are :)
> 
> I'll return next week with chapter 3, don't be afraid to let me know what you're thinking so far! Enjoy!

Hope ripped off the lock Lightning’s men had placed on the bunker doors with relative ease. She raised an eyebrow at his apparently newfound strength, but otherwise made no comment. As a team, they heaved the doors open - once electronically locked before the home’s abandonment. Lightning headed inside ahead of him, turning on a small generator. The lights flickered on slowly, revealing a fairly small concrete room ringed with metal shelves that were bolted to the floor. The shelves likely contained food some time ago, but now there were only a few tattered blankets and a lantern that appeared to be broken.

After only a few seconds, the generator began to give a sputtering cough. It whined loudly, and even began to smoke a little. Hope’s stomach lurched, and he hurriedly switched it off, nearly burning himself on some exposed, already overheated parts in the process. The lights died much quicker than they had turned on.

He couldn’t see her anymore, but he heard Lightning’s boots tap on the hard floor. “What are you doing?”

“That was too loud.” Hope explained, bordering panic. “Light, I’m being followed. I can’t let him find me.” He stood, stepping past the generator, and began to feel around a bit in the dark, trying to find the broken lantern. Perhaps he could fix it.

She didn’t have to do anything for him to know he had confused her. Really, she had almost certainly been perpetually confused since she saw his face. Her voice was behind him now. “Hope, who’s following you? What’s going on?”

After banging his hand on two or three shelves, he found what he was looking for. The lantern was plastic, cheap, probably meant as a backup, not a main source of light. It likely wasn’t complex, he should be able to fix it easily.

“It’s a long story, but,” Hope fiddled with the “on” switch, it was stuck, “in a nutshell, if this man catches up to me, I’m going to be forced to kill him.”

He applied a bit more pressure to the switch, and it snapped completely off. Fortunately, it also snapped on, and one small bulb in the lantern flared to life. It wasn’t as broken as he originally thought.

He turned back to Lightning, her face slightly illuminated and framed by shadow. She presented no emotion, but he knew she was processing his claim. Hearing him admit that murder might be necessary was not something she probably thought she’d ever hear. He himself hated saying it, but there was no way around the situation. If Trip found him, and he was fully aware of the irony of running from a man you need to kill, there could be no mercy, no matter how badly he wanted to keep his opponent alive. The man was unstable. If Hope didn’t kill him, there was no telling how many people would be caught in the wake of Trip’s lust for revenge.

He had a feeling that somehow, Lightning’s soldiers were such victims.

“Why?”

“...What were you doing out here?” Hope redirected. He wasn’t ready to answer, not yet. His and Trip’s story was complicated, and not something Lightning needed to hear when she was still questioning if he was real.

She pressed her lips together in disapproval of his tactics, but answered anyway. “We were out here for training. I was supposed to test their survival skills, given only a day’s worth of rations and water.” She sighed. “They’d made it for four days…”

Suddenly, Hope’s chest hurt. They weren’t even fully soldiers. They were practically kids, now half-melted bones and exposed organs. And no one even knew what happened…

His pain grew worse, and he realized it wasn’t just in his head. The adrenaline from the chase had worn off, and now he was feeling everything that had happened when the tree crushed him. It was really intense, causing him to grunt and stumble back into the steel shelving. Lightning reached out for him, crying, “Hope!”

Hope raised the hand that wasn’t clinging to the shelf behind him, stopping her. She hesitated, still poised to help him. “You’re hurt, let me look.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine, just give me some time.”

The light from the lantern was being mostly blocked by his head, but nothing could hide Lightning’s frown, not even pure darkness. She reached behind him and took the lantern.

“Goddess, Hope!” She grimaced, after bringing the light between them and pushing away what was left of the bottom half of his shirt. Well, more like _ripping_ his shirt away. The cloth had been glued to him with blood. The puncture he’d felt before was very clear now, and not a pretty sight in the least. He knew it wasn’t just that, either. He almost certainly had a few broken ribs.

Still. “Light, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

She snorted in disgust of his suggestion. “Don’t _worry_? Hope, this is serious, we have to go back and see if the jeep survived, you need a doctor.”

Every part of him was burning now, but he suppressed it as much as he could. Hope frowned. “Hold on, you don’t know, do you?”

“Know what? Hope, don’t play games with me, I’m not losing you again.”

Bright blue chocobo in a dress, she really didn’t know. How in the world had she lived this long and not realized? Did this mean the others didn’t know either, assuming they all stayed together after he left?

“Seriously, I’m taking you to get help.”

Lightning took him by the wrist, and instantly, Hope wasn’t in his body anymore. He was in so much pain that he couldn’t feel a thing. He watched himself fall to his knees, and having gripped the shelf very tightly, also watched himself demolish the rest of the shelves on the way down, the metal screaming as it separated. He came back as Lightning released him, a lone rock in a sea of lava, an ant under a magnifying glass. A l’Cie gone Cie’th.

He felt himself slipping, and it took every ounce of will to choke, “H-hit me.”

Lightning had retreated a few feet during his fit, and took the light with her. But even though she still had the lantern, he couldn’t see her anymore. Goddess, it had never been this bad.

“What?”

“I said _hit me!”_ He nearly screamed. He forgot where he was, forgot what was happening, forgot his own name. “Don’t let me do it on my own! Hit me! _Please_!”

He had no idea if she listened.

  
  


_Plink...plink...plink…_

_Rainwater seeped in from the broken glass of the cell’s window, dripping down into the moldy tin of food left three days ago. He tried not to move; his wrists had already been rubbed raw by the chains, but that rat had been inching closer for the past ten minutes. He suspected the malnourished creature was growing the courage to attack and eat him before he died. He might’ve let it, if it weren’t for her._

_She was in the cell across from him, chained just as he was, nothing but skin and bones. Her once beautiful hair lay thin and limp over her shoulders; he could see her ribs as she breathed. As much torture as she’d been through, she hadn’t shed a tear. Her strength always amazed him. Because of her, he’d been able to survive all the weeks since they’d been imprisoned._

_Had it been weeks? Months? Years even?_

_He took comfort in watching her chest rise and fall, in the assurance that she was alive on the other side of those bars. She had been sleeping for a rather long time; sometimes he stared at her for hours before he was convinced she hadn’t died in her sleep. What he wouldn’t give to see her eyes...to speak to her again…_

_Dull footsteps and loud clanging sounded from far down the hall. He kept as still as he could, not allowing the chains to clatter and draw attention to him. Soon enough, large shadows began to creep closer, until two large men appeared. He prayed with all his heart that they would pass on by, but about halfway between the cells, the footsteps stopped. The silence that followed, if only for a few seconds, was more deafening than all the voices in the world crying out at once. Then the smaller of the two - if only by an inch - got out his set of keys and stepped not toward him, but away._

_To_ her _cell._

_His heart stopped. His throat closed up. Both men entered her cell, low chuckles coming from beneath their greasy beards. She opened her eyes then, slowly, tiredly, and so painfully unaware. He tried to call out to her, but he choked on the words._

_The larger man grabbed her roughly by the arm, shocking her awake. A strained squeak escaped her, but she was too feeble to fight him off. The moment her chains were unlocked and she was freed, both men began to attack her, vicious as behemoths._

_He forgot everything then, standing and straining with all his strength against the chains, pulling until he thought his hands would just fly off. Her screams were weak, they sounded as though they were scraping her throat raw. The whole cell was shrouded in shadow, he couldn’t see a thing, he could only hear the screams, the sounds of her being beaten to death. His heart burst out of his chest and tried to reach her, since his voice still couldn’t. The rat that had been eyeing him scampered through his bars into her cell._

_Something in him broke then. He could hear every one of the rat’s little claws as they clicked on the cold stone ground. Every other sound had stopped. The shadows dispersed. The men were gone._

_He hated himself for wishing to see her again._

_There she was before him, broken, bloody, and lifeless. The bars of her cell were gone now, a sickening metaphor of her freedom. That damn rat was sniffing at her toes._

_Anger bubbled in his chest, waking his voice. “Get away from her.” He growled._

_The rat ignored him._

_His chains quadrupled in weight, pulling him to the ground. Within seconds, he was being buried in stone as hundreds of rats flowed from somewhere behind him, a river of claws and teeth._

_“No.” He snarled, fighting against gravity. Only, the more he struggled, the heavier his chains grew, and the faster he sank. Some of the rats stopped and began tearing at him, impatient. The pull was too much, he was in up to his chest now._

_“No!” He shouted, raising his head high. “I won’t let you take her!”_

_He didn’t know who he was talking to, but he knew that he meant what he said. He refused to believe that she was gone, he_ would _free himself, he_ would _save her._

 

 

When Hope’s eyes opened again, he had some scratchy fabric stuck in his mouth, and there was no light whatsoever. He conducted a quick test of his body and found that he had healed, so he calculated that he had to have been out for a few hours. He took the gag out of his mouth—which was probably a piece of one of the blankets—and began, “Light, wha—”

Lightning clamped her hand over his mouth. “Shh.” She hissed.

His question was answered anyway, when seconds later, footsteps could be heard from the house above them.


	3. The Need to Run

The steps above were erratic, stomping through the old house with manic energy. Hope had no doubt that it was Trip, and stopped breathing. Without the added interference of such internal white noise, he could tell precisely where Trip was. Directly above, north, slightly north west, on the second floor. He had no idea about the bunker; good. If he could hang on to his ignorance until he moved on, no more blood would be shed today.

Even though his breathing had stopped, he could hear Lightning very clearly. Her own breathing was a little shaky. Occasionally she held her breath, and that helped stabilize her temporarily, but she was obviously nervous, if not outright afraid. He couldn’t blame her. After losing her men, running into him again, and, goddess, who knows what he put her through while he was out? Not to mention how he had acted about this man. She would have to be insane to not be scared.

He found it distractingly curious, however, that she was still breathing at all. This only solidified his suspicion that she didn’t know how they worked, stuck with their “rewarded” eternity. Surely he wasn’t the only one of the six left that had experimented? Had noticed at all? No, perhaps he was. If he knew the others-

Trip shouted up in the house, a veritable roar of frustration. There was a shuffling sound, swiftly followed by a loud crash of glass, and a dull thump on the earth outside.

“I WILL FIND YOU!” He declared, very clear even through the ground—clear to Hope, anyway.

Neither of them spoke for at least an hour after his footsteps faded away.

Hope felt around for the lantern, hoping Lightning hadn’t needed to destroy it to turn it off. All he had managed to find was the cold concrete floor when the light came back on.

Lightning held the lantern in her lap, her hands clearly decorated with the pattern of the plastic, indicating that she’d held it tight for a while, maybe even since she turned it off. She had shadows on her face that had nothing to do with the darkness around them.

“What the hell, Hope?”

Guilt pinched his insides. He’d unintentionally thrown her into a huge mess in the past few hours. He had so much to explain, about six centuries worth. She should be out with her men, or home with Serah, not hiding from a maniac in a bunker with him.

“I’m sorry, Light...” He sat up fully, crossing his legs. “What do you want to hear? You deserve to know everything.”

For a few moments, she merely stared at him, her eyes occasionally flickering to the exit, or his bloodstained clothes. Somewhere in between, she made a decision, but didn’t look at him, and instead at the lantern. “What was happening after you passed out? You started to smoke, and…”

She didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. It was clear enough by the fact that she had to gag him. He’d had another dream. He didn’t remember this one, but he remembered enough to know what happens. Goddess, this wasn’t going to be fun… Hope took a deep breath.

“Well, as for the smoke...that was just my body healing. I don’t know how you guys haven’t figured this out yet, but we heal unnaturally fast. At least, I assume this applies to all of us. Anyway, sometimes, if it’s really bad,” he shrugged, “we heat up because our body’s working so hard to repair itself. The pain is unbearable for a little while, but then it’s over.”

Lightning turned to him then, frowning slightly. She moved the lantern over. He knew exactly what she was thinking, and pulled up the rags of his shirt. The heat had sort of melted the blood away, so his injury could be seen fairly clearly. Or rather, where it had been. What was left was a faint scar, and not much else. Lightning bit her bottom lip, taking in this new information.

After a few minutes, she looked him in the eye. “Then, what about the screaming?”

At this, Hope’s throat seized up. He could tell her. He could tell her. It was only Lightning. She might even understand. But no matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn’t form the words. His secret glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trapping it inside where it had remained for the past six hundred years, as if speaking it aloud would break some sort of spell.

“Hope?”

“I—I think I just had a nightmare, I don’t really remember.” He stood, intently listening to the outside. “He’s definitely gone, we don’t have to stay here anymore. In fact, we shouldn’t, sticking around could get dangerous.” Looking down at her, he asked sheepishly, “How incredibly disrespectful would it be to ask if you think any clothes survived the explosion?”

Lightning chuckled through her nose. “Extremely. You’ll never be forgiven.”

Hope shrugged. “I tend to outlive problems like that.” He said satirically. Immediately, his words bit back at him. Not only was that crass, it was a downright lie. He outlived people, not problems.

Which in itself was a bit of a problem.

Lightning got up, putting the lantern on the nearest intact shelf. “We can look. It’s wrong, but so is you running around half-naked.”

He decided not to mention that that was exactly what he did when it came time to wash his one set of now-ruined clothes.

“I’ll be respectful, I promise. I have no intention of disturbing anyone.”

“I know.”

The sun was setting when they made it back to the site of the explosion. The air was clear of smoke, but the smell still lingered. They skirted the area until they found a group of tents that were marginally undamaged compared to everything else. Hope lifted the heavy material and heaved it aside until Lightning found a duffel half-buried in ash. Inside was a few sets of clothes, some of which looked like they would fit him.

Hope felt very wrong changing on the site, so he retreated a good distance into the trees before doing so. Thankfully, the first pair of pants he tried fit perfectly, but it took a few tries with the shirts, and even then, the one he went with was a bit tight. He walked sheepishly back to where Lightning stood waiting.

She nodded as he set the duffel back on the ground where it belonged. “Much better.”

“Yeah.” He squirmed a little. “But I feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

Lightning sighed. “Hope, don’t worry about it. They would’ve just sat here and rotted if you didn’t take them. Once I call this in, the only thing that’ll be cleaned up is the bodies.”

Hope cursed in his head. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. She’d call in the accident, and try to get him to come home. He couldn’t do that, not now, and probably not ever. He began to suffocate just thinking about it. He was fine on his own.

Hope swallowed his guilt. “This is where we say goodbye, Light. Now that you’re safe, I can’t stay. Tell everyone I’m fine, okay?”

Before he could turn to leave, Lightning grabbed him by the arm. “Hold on, what are you talking about? You’re coming with me.”

Hope shook his head. “No, I’m not. I can’t go back, Lightning, I can’t. I would love to, but-”

“If you want to, then why don’t you? Hope, we thought you were dead. You can’t disappear for hundreds of years, show up, and then disappear again. Just telling everyone else you’re alive won’t fix anything.”

“Neither will going with you, not for me. Light, if I go back, it’ll just hurt everyone all over again. It’s better if I stay out here, and you keep living your lives like you have been. Nothing has to change, please.”

He looked away from her, not having the heart to tear himself from her grip. He knew he was being juvenile and selfish, but he didn’t want to face everyone’s disappointment, their pain, their anger. It was hard enough for him to leave in the first place, going back…

Serah would ask, and he couldn’t…

Lightning slowly let go of him, and backed up a little. “If you won’t come back, then I won’t either. Not until I can convince you.”

“Lightning-”

“No, Hope. I mean it. I’ll call this in and come with you. Wherever you go. I’m not losing you again,  _ we’re _ not losing you again.”

“I can’t let you do that. It’s too dangerous, being with me out here-”

For a third time, she interrupted him, “Too dangerous? Hope, I’ve fought in every war since the Fall and lived. If what you told me is true, we’re also practically invincible. What in the hell is ‘too dangerous’?”

He sighed. “Danger has more facets than just death, Light. Seriously, if you stay with me, I can almost guarantee something will happen. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting hurt, or worse.”

Lightning finally seemed to take what he said into consideration. She looked out over the remains of the camp, watching loose ash being blown around in the breeze. He hoped she would come to her senses and just go home. As nice as it was to see her again, he left for a reason. Maybe if he told her, she’d understand and let him alone. No, he couldn’t entertain that thought for more than a moment. She’d only try harder to get him home if she knew the truth.

“Hope, what would you do if you found Vanille again?”

_ “Do...do you really think it’s possible?” _

What...what would he do?

_ “Sure. Anything is.” _

He’d...he’d…

_ “Don’t you remember you promised me?” _

He cleared his throat, and tried to calm his racing heart. “I—I don’t know what I would do. Why?”

Lightning turned back to him, looking him in the eye. “Well, you sure as hell wouldn’t leave her, would you? I know this isn’t the same, but I won’t leave you. Damn the danger. We need you, Hope.”

He burned from the inside out. Thousands of voices crowded his head, shouting to be heard, shouting to not be forgotten. He couldn’t forget, he’d never forget. So many people needed him, so many people confused him for some kind of god once they heard his story, became reliant on his strength. But he could never save them.

Never save  _ her _ .

Hope practically spun away from her, hitting a tree behind him and knocking it clean over. The ripping sound of the roots tearing from the earth, the crack of the trunk splitting where he hit it, the dull thud of the whole thing hitting the ground, spitting up ash as it fell, was all so horribly unsatisfying. He wanted to tear apart the earth, he wanted to shatter a mountain. Yet he knew in the end that even destroying everything wouldn’t be enough.

_ “We need you, Hope.” _

“No.” He said, forcing his tone to be as even as possible. “You don’t need me. You need to go home. You have family waiting for you, and families waiting for the bodies of their sons. Just let me go.”

He wouldn’t look at her, but he knew exactly what she looked like. Her face was draped in disappointment, even anger. She probably had her arms crossed, prepared to refute his comments, prepared to fight. But he wouldn’t let that happen. He had to make the choice.

For the second time in his life, Hope Estheim ran.


	4. Back Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I'm a little late, but here's chapter 4!

She was following him.

He knew it, yet he still didn’t stop. In all honesty, he knew running wouldn’t fix anything, it never had. But he needed to breathe, to think without a source of guilt directly in his face. He also knew he was being childish, spewing excuses left and right, breaking trees, but...he just couldn’t go back. As far as Lightning staying with him…

She couldn’t see him dream again.

He ran until it grew too dark to see, and Lightning’s footsteps could no longer be heard. It took him all of two seconds to catch his breath, then he perched himself on a low-hanging branch, clenching all of his muscles over and over to try and release the energy he built up. He could run for days and never run out of energy. Quite literally, he had done it several times.

Hope sighed, and buried his face in his hands, massaging his skull a little. What would he do when Lightning caught up? He supposed he would have to let her stay with him. It would be impossible to change her mind, like convincing a fish not to swim. Perhaps when she saw how he lived, she’d go back?

One can only hope, even if it’s foolish.

He closed his eyes once he could hear her again, and kept them closed even when she stopped.

“Are you trying to kill me, Estheim? Or have you not grown up in the past six hundred years?” Lightning started walking toward him again. “I mean it, I’m not leaving you until you come home.”

“Tell me something, Light.”

She stopped.

“How is everyone?”

“...Tsk.” Her feet shuffled a bit on the ground, she was probably shifting her weight. “Are you serious? You think you have the right to just ask that after-”

“Really. I want to know.”

Lightning huffed very harshly. “They’re fine. Serah and Snow never managed to have kids of their own, but they’re in the middle of adopting again, so they’re happy. Dajh kept growing up like you did, he’s training to be a doctor right now, he’s done just about everything else. Sazh is content doing odd jobs for people.” She sighed. “But no one ever stopped missing you, or Fang and Vanille.”

_Fang and Vanille._

Hope’s chest constricted.

“You...mentioned that Snow looked for me?” He asked, guilt flooding him.

Her tongue clicked. “Yeah. For at least fifty years before Serah finally convinced him that it would kill him.” He heard her shuffle again. “We all looked at first, but after a few years, Sazh decided that you’d come back when you wanted to. Serah and I went along with that, but Snow…

“Serah was affected the most after you left. She cried all the time for months, and after we gave up looking, she barely spoke to anyone for weeks. And it didn’t help that Snow was still out trying to find you.” He heard her begin to pace, and was glad he had decided to keep his eyes closed. “I was... _tsk_ , angry doesn’t even begin to cover it. If we’d had our meeting within those first few years, I’m pretty sure I would’ve shot you regardless. Hell, I half considered doing it now, if that gun weren’t melted to shit.”

She had finally let her anger loose. He expected it, and perhaps subconsciously encouraged it to punish himself. He’d spent a cumulative of decades wallowing in how his leaving had hurt everyone. He hated himself quite often for making that choice, but after a while, going back was just painful.

“I tried, you know.”

Another shuffle, she spun. “Tried?”

“Going home.” He finally opened his eyes again, and found that Lightning was closer than he’d thought. She was only a few feet away, glaring up at him, her eyes just daring him to say that he’d gone home. He sighed. “It was about fifteen years after. I decided I’d finally gotten over myself and hopped a train to the next town, since it had the closest station at the time. I was fine on the train. But...while I was walking over, everything caught up with me and...I got sick. My guilt took over me and I vomited. I was convinced I got sick because I wasn’t ready to come back, and I turned around. I’ve been everywhere on Pulse except New Bodhum since…”

He waited impatiently for Lightning to respond. The silence seemed to stretch on for days. It might have, he sometimes felt he had a diminished sense of time caused by living for so long. She turned away from him and shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but you don’t understand, I…”

_You can tell her about the dreams, Hope, come on._

“You’re right, I don’t understand. Being the way we are sucks, but that’s why we should stick together. My men died today. But I was going to outlive them all no matter what. The only people you don’t have to bury are back home, Hope. You have to get it through your damn thick skull that we are the only ones who can understand what you’re going through. You just have to let us in.”

“I…”

Lightning held her hand out for him. “Come on down from there. If you won’t come back, you can at least talk to them, right? After I report the explosion, we can call Serah. She’d love hearing your voice again.”

Hope hesitated, but only for a few moments. Talking he could do. He took her hand.

 

 

_Long grass blew gently in the breeze, sending waves of green rippling softly over the great plain beneath Cocoon. He walked toward the meeting place, anticipation coursing through his body and electrifying the earth when his fingers brushed against the turf. It had been so long, would she recognize him? Would he recognize her? Of course he would, she hadn’t changed a bit._

_Himself, on the other hand…_

_The breeze picked up a bit, and the grass kicked into a mesmerizing dance, twisting and floating in a choreographed performance. He stopped at the crest of a small hill, looking out over the monochrome sea for that one splash of color. Had he dreamed the whole thing? Was she not coming?_

_“Over here!”_

_He turned towards the sound of her voice, his heart taking off and a smile spreading quickly across his face. She was here, just a few yards away, waiting for him, just as she said she would be._

_She bounded over to him, stopping just before she ran into him. Her eyes were as bright as ever and her smile could blind a man. She wore a slightly reflective blue dress that almost matched the suspended world behind her._

_She laughed, a sound that made flowers bloom. “You’re here! I almost didn’t recognize you, you’re all grown up!” She stood on her toes. “And look how tall you are!”_

_He smiled. “Yeah. It’s a whole new world up here.”_

_She giggled as rays of sunlight reflected from the crystal planet and bathed her in their gentle glow. From his end, she looked like an angel. From hers, she was blinded, and blinked as she shifted until she could see again. For a long while, they simply watched each other, perfectly content to stay that way forever. Goddess, if the last thing he ever saw in his whole life was her face, he would die a happy man._

_All too soon, she looked away, her gaze drifting to his former home, now raised in the Pulsian sky through a sacrifice he’d been unwilling to make, but unable to stop._

_“It’s time for me to go…”_

_The sky dimmed, his heart fluttered slowly back into place._

_“So soon? But we’ve only just got here, are you sure you can’t stay?”_

_Her lips smiled, but her eyes betrayed her. “I’m sure. But it’s okay. You’ll see me again, won’t you?”_

_He looked away, refusing to add those images to her beautiful face. “Not like this, I won’t… Please, just a little longer? What could it hurt?”_

_“Hope...Look at me…”_

_He didn’t, stalling. The more time he could even just spend in her presence…_

_“Hope, please…”_

_He sighed, and obeyed. There were small tears in her eyes, but none fell. She reached out to him, hesitated, her fingers curling into her palm, and pulled her hand back. “I...I have to go. I don’t want to, but…”_

_He took her hand. “Then don’t…”_

_She almost immediately gasped in pain, and yanked away. She cradled her hand to her chest in surprise._

_“I - I’m sorry!” He stuttered. “Did I hurt you?”_

_She looked down at her hand. “I…” Shock crossed her face; she held her hand back out just a little, and almost immediately, her fingers crumbled, and were carried away by the wind as dust. The rest of her began to slowly follow._

_Fear swallowed him, he sky went dark, and his heart sank into his stomach. A massive_ crack _rang out, followed by a million more. Cocoon began to fall._

_He...he’d killed her. He’d killed everyone._

_She’d been blown away past her elbows now, but she didn’t seem to be in any pain. She just seemed...sad. The way she looked at him…_

_“P-Please, no.” He nearly sobbed. “I - I can’t lose you again, I’m sorry, I - I can fix this, please…”_

_Behind her, Cocoon collapsed entirely, the cacophony drowning out her response, the crystal debris rushing toward them in a wave of death. Her face was blowing away, and taking his heart with it. The breeze was a full-blown wind now, specks of debris were starting to hit them._

_“No…”_

_The debris was breaking her up. She couldn’t seem to move anymore, but the eye she had left was still watching him, she would be gone any moment._

_“No....I’m sorry, no, please…”_

_His words were ripped away by the storm. Cocoon’s fragments were getting larger, hitting him, nearly knocking him over. A huge one caused him to stumble, it’s sharp edges battering him, blood spilling onto the crystal dust at his feet._

_Because of this, he almost missed the one that hit her._

_“NO!”_

_The massive crystal shard flew right through her, puffing the rest of her body out of existence._

_“Vanille!!!!”_


	5. The Space Between

As soon as Hope took her hand, his eyes rolled back horrifyingly into his skull, and he fell heavily from his branch all the way to the ground with a dull  _ thump _ before she could catch him, almost before she realized he needed to be caught at all. His body landed nearly curled up in a ball, his head lolled grotesquely to the side.

“H-Hope!” She quickly knelt beside him, shook him roughly. “Hope, wake up! Come on, this isn’t funny!”

There was less than no response from him. He rolled onto his back from the force of her shaking, and his head corrected itself, though his mouth hung slightly open. His eyes fluttered spastically under his eyelids. He was dreaming again?

“Hope, come on! Snap out of it!”

His face twitched into a faint smile, then relaxed again.

Lightning sat back on her heels in shock. What...just happened? This wasn’t like last time, where he was injured. He just touched her, and…

She froze. This started when she touched him before, didn’t it? She grabbed him by the wrist, then…

Wait, his wrist?

Lightning wasn’t much of a believer in the gods, but she prayed to every single one she could remember that she was wrong. If he was… No, she couldn’t even consider it. They were all dead. Still, she reached across him, after making sure that he was breathing, and apprehensively turned over his arm. She almost couldn’t look… She took a deep breath.

Nothing. His skin was clear.

She sighed with relief, although she wasn’t all that comforted. All that did was eliminate one possibility, it didn’t present any others. The only other thing she could think of was that he maybe got another injury, but that didn’t seem likely either.

“Goddess, Hope…” She murmured. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

It had been getting dark for a while, but it seemed to suddenly drop on her like a heavy curtain from a broken rod, bringing with it a hollow chill. The night bugs screeched in her ears, letting her know that they were definitely there, chastising her for not noticing them earlier.

Lightning considered building a fire. She had no idea how long Hope would be out; last time he didn’t wake up for hours. She didn’t like the idea of not being able to see what was around them, not caring as much about being warm. But...if that man chasing Hope was still around, lighting a fire might attract his attention, and she also didn’t like the idea of handling an unknown entity on her own. Hope was running for a reason.

In lieu of lighting a fire, she sat near Hope and hugged her knees to her chest for warmth. She watched his face, started searching for something. For what, she wasn’t sure. Maybe for the boy she once knew, the broken little kid who just wanted to avenge his mother.

He hadn’t been that boy very long, had he? Their journey as l’Cie had forced him to grow up in a matter of days. By the end, he wasn’t even the same person anymore. None of them were, really, but his was the most dramatic case. She chuckled a little to herself, her hair fell from her shoulder. His own father barely recognized him after the Fall.

His father...what happened to him?

Obviously he was dead, but she couldn’t seem to remember how he died. That should be something she remembered, he did searching of his own after Hope disappeared, they all worked together, at least at first. Embarrassingly, it took a few days for any of them to notice that Hope had gone missing. Both parties assumed that he was with the other.

It was Serah who realized something was wrong. Hope used to regularly help with her classes, so when he didn’t show up, she called his father. All hell broke loose within an hour. Serah sent her students home, shaken and terrified. They all adored Hope. Practically everyone who had ever interacted with him was called, the whole village was in an uproar. A public effort was made for a few weeks, but Hope hadn’t left any traces. The normal people gave up then. Lightning, Serah, and Sazh kept on for about five years. To this day, Snow would randomly conduct searches when he thought Serah wouldn’t notice - which she always did. And Hope’s father...she couldn’t remember if he ever stopped. Hell, it might’ve been the searching that killed him.

Lightning’s heart sank. Whatever happened, he died never knowing his son was okay.

Immediately, her anger towards Hope burned again, boiling her heart back into place. How could he be so selfish?

“I - I’m sorry!” He cried, flinching.

He startled her so much that she almost choked on her own tongue. She instinctively jumped back a few inches, nearly sitting on her hands in the process. Hope wasn’t lying peacefully anymore, he was shaking, like a puppy left in the rain. His hands were clenched tight, and held so close to the ground that they were digging molds of themselves. He was too deep in his dream to say anything understandable, murmuring incoherent gibberish between fits of pounding his fists into the dirt.

Lightning wasn’t as afraid for him as she had been before; but she felt the need to restrain him. She sat behind his head, and the next time he raised his hands, she grabbed him - intentionally below the wrists - to keep him from digging his own grave. He fought her, sitting himself up with the effort of trying to withdraw his hands again. After a few minutes, he let out a dry sob.

“...fix this…”

His face contorted.

“...please…”

She hesitated, and his arms broke free, slamming another four inches further into the ground. He finally stopped shaking, but his breathing increased dramatically. He flinched again, and again, and again, as though someone - or something - were hitting him. Lightning just watched, horrified. Before, he’d been deathly still, at least until the screaming started. But this time...this time…

This time was worse.

As soon as this thought crossed her mind, he stiffened.

“No…”

Not only did  _ he _ fall still, but so did the night around them. The bugs stopped screeching, any wind ceased. Every sense in Lightning’s body was telling her to run, that what was happening was unnatural. She refused to leave him, but still, she retreated a few feet.

“Come on, Hope.” She pleaded under her breath. “Wake up…”

Slowly, so slowly she didn’t even notice until it was too late, everything began to glow. A soft white light that she first mistook for the moon. Details in the bark of the trees, a rodent scurrying to safety across the grass, individual beads of sweat on Hope’s face. She could see everything, yet she missed everything.

_ “NO!” _

Lightning couldn’t see anymore, the light was so intense that even after she buried her eyes in her arms, not a shred of darkness gave her relief. 

_ “Vanille!!!!” _

The wind picked up again, more of a gale than anything else. Still unable to see, Lightning backed up until she felt a tree at her back. She reached up, searching almost wildly with her hand until she, luckily, found a low branch. She gripped it tightly, grounding herself to the spot. Whatever the hell was going on, she was staying put.

There was something eerily familiar about these winds, though she couldn’t place what it was. The chaos above them seemed to have a mind of its own, becoming more intense the harder she clung to the tree, becoming louder with the intent of disorienting her. It was like something from the past was tearing through the branches above them, but she couldn’t remember anything she’d ever encountered that was so cold and hostile.

Nothing that was still around, anyway.

Somewhere beneath the roaring in her ears, she thought she could hear Hope screaming. His agonizing cries attempted to pierce the wall of air that was starting to suffocate her. Doing her best to breathe, she decided to abandon her tree. Hope was in trouble, she had to help him.

Hoping that she wasn’t thrown off course immediately, she headed in the direction she remembered Hope being in. She was thrown back to the ground as soon as she tried to stand, so she had to crawl. The light was getting painful, she would go blind at this rate.

She felt forward with her hands as she crawled. He shouldn’t be too far, she only backed off a few feet, he should be about...here.

As soon as she touched him, the wind stopped. The silence rung in her ears like a massive bell, and she was fairly certain the white light was fading, but it was hard to tell as it had burned into her eyes.

Something moved behind her and she whipped around, blinking furiously in hopes that if it was something dangerous, she’d regain her sight before it attacked.

A painfully familiar voice grunted. “Lightning?”

She rubbed her eyes, and they slowly cleared. She could only make out a dark silhouette, but it was enough.

“F-Fang?”


	6. Caught

Nearly foreign hands grabbed her with rough camaraderie and pulled her to her feet, holding her apart but tightly. She still couldn’t see properly, but now that she was this close, she could definitely see Fang’s dark, messy hair and could nearly make out her deep green eyes. Fang smiled. “Damn, Lighting, it  _ is  _ you!”

“Lighting!” A second voice chirped, a second set of hands pulled her into a hug.

“V-Vanille?”

The young woman giggled. “Yeah, it’s me! I can’t believe we’re back!”

Lightning couldn’t believe it, either. Not that she wasn’t glad, of course, but it had been so, so very long, that she had to try and convince herself that this wasn’t all a dream. That the hands touching her weren’t figments of her imagination, that the voices they partnered with weren’t echoes of a past long lost. And, as her eyesight slowly returned, that the faces before her weren’t projections designed to help her cope with whatever was going on.

Fang looked around. “So, what are you doing in the middle of nowhere?”

Lightning gestured behind her. “I’m out here with Hope. He’s been gone almost as long as you have, though at least we knew where you were. I’m trying to convince him to come home.”

Vanille barely let her finish before kneeling down beside Hope’s yet unmoving body. She took one of his hands, and used her other to shake him gently. “Hope, wake up! I’m back, just like I promised! You didn’t lose me, please…”

Lighting raised an eyebrow at Fang, who shook her head as if to say that she’d explain later.

“We dreamed about you kids sometimes.” Fang looked back up at Cocoon, her expression a mix of reverence and distaste. “So let me get this straight. Hope here ran away, and so did the rest of you.”

Lightning frowned. “No. We stayed. We stayed so he could always come home.”

“Giving up is the same as running away from the problem, Sunshine.” She gave Vanille a pointed glance. “Anyway, now that we’re back, we’ll try to knock some sense into him for ya.” She glanced directly at Hope this time. “Wonder why he left in the first place, though.”

“Tsk. I’ve been asking the same question for six hundred years.”

“Wait. Six hundred-”

“No. No no no no no…”

They both looked back to Vanille. She was sitting completely still, as though in shock. Hope’s left hand lay on his chest, revealing the source of her distress.

“Damnit!” Lightning hissed, fear and confusion poisoning her heart. Something happened when that light took over, something none of them would ever be able to explain because nobody  _ saw _ it. But here they saw the aftermath, and it wasn’t pretty.

“A brand?”

Vanille held her hands over him in her familiar gesture, which Lightning had always assumed was for prayer, but never asked. “I-It’s twisted, just like yours was, Fang. Wh-what do we do?” She whimpered. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Lightning grunted. “Of course it’s not your fault, why would you think that?”

Fang put a hand on her shoulder to quiet her, and then joined Vanille by Hope’s body. The two had a very hushed conversation, which Lightning couldn’t have overheard if she tried. Instead, she stared at Hope’s wrist. She had checked only minutes ago. What could have happened to him in such a short time? And...what did this mean? The Fal’cie had all disappeared slowly after they had saved Cocoon. There weren’t any left to do this…

Her gaze drifted to Hope’s face just as his eyes opened. Relief trickled through her river of worry.

“Hope!” Vanille cried, and practically tackled him in what must have been a very awkward hug. He kind of flailed for a moment in surprise before carefully putting his arms around her, as though she might break 

“Vanille… Am I dreaming again?”

She lifted herself up a little, looking him properly in the face, but neither of them let go. Smiling, she shook her head. “No, Hope. I promise, this is real.” She placed one hand over his heart. “ _ I’m _ real…”

As Hope moved to touch her hand, Fang decided to break up the party. She stepped forward and pulled Hope up, effectively getting Vanille off of him - which Lightning assumed was the point. “Alright, Estheim, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Once on his feet, he smiled. “Hey, Fang.”

Lightning interjected, keeping her hands at her sides. “What happened this time, Hope?”

His smile faded. He glanced over at Vanille, and then closed his eyes, shaking his head at his shoes. “I...don’t know.”

“It wasn’t the same, was it?”

Hope sighed. “I - I don’t know, Lightning. It’s been a long time since anything like this has happened to me.”

“Decades.” Vanille guessed, her tone gentle.

Lightning had assumed she was guessing, but the look on Hope’s face made her question that conclusion. “Vanille...did you-”

“Tell me something, kid.” Fang interrupted again, throwing one arm around his shoulders. “Why have you been off the grid for six hundred years, huh?” She gave him a bit of a squeeze. “It’s not like you to abandon your family like that.”

“I didn’t-”

“If you didn’t tell them where you were, you abandoned them. Don’t forget, Vanille and I saw a lot of what happened down here. If you didn’t have a reason, then you went through a lot of goddessdamn hell for nothing.” In an act that made Lightning cringe, Fang grabbed his wrist and showed it to him. “What the hell is this, huh? I  _ know _ you’re smarter than this.”

“Fang, leave him alone!” Vanille begged.

Hope’s eyes widened in horror. He froze like Fang had a gun on him, staring at the twisted brand seared into his skin. Lightning barely resisted the urge to slap the hunter in the face.  _ Of course _ Hope was smarter than that, he’d never get himself into this situation again on purpose, none of them would!

While Hope stood with his mouth slightly agape, still trying to comprehend his new tattoo, she offered, “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s like an echo.”

Fang let go of Hope’s arm and gestured to Lightning’s chest. “Do you still have yours?”

“No. But Hope didn’t either, not before you two woke up.”

Without asking for consent, Fang undid her shirt to check where her brand used to be, backing off once she’d confirmed her suspicions. “You’re clear.”

Lightning fixed her zipper back up. “What about you two?” Though, even as the words left her mouth, she could see Fang’s bare shoulder, no longer adorned with the same mark that Hope now bore.

Fang shook her head. “First thing as soon as we realized we were awake was check.”

“Hope, are you okay?”

Vanille had taken her hands and covered his wrist; Lightning cringed, expecting the worst. Hope seemed to have the same train of thought, because he flinched too. But nothing happened, aside from half the group having heart attacks. He swallowed uncertainty. “I’m fine, just...confused.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.” She smiled. “After all we’ve been through, we can do anything.”

Hope delivered a fractured chuckle. “I guess you’re right.”

Suddenly, he froze again. But not like a victim, not this time. He was a predator, eyes flicking in any and every direction, searching for whatever had triggered him, not breathing so he could hear a mouse sneeze. Something was wrong.

“Hope?”

“Hey, kid?”

“What’s going on?”

“Hide, all of you.” Hope ordered quietly, stepping back, away from Vanille. “Now.”

Fang opened her mouth to protest, but Lightning had a strong hunch she knew what was going on, so she grabbed both native Pulsians and obeyed, hiding all of them deep enough in the trees that they wouldn’t be noticed, but could see the action.

“What the  _ hell _ is going on?” Fang hissed, yanking herself free in protest of being manhandled sans explanation. “What have you two been up to?”

“It’s not what  _ we’ve _ been up to, it’s what  _ he’s _ been up to,” Lightning corrected, “and I have no idea. But I think there’s about to be trouble.”

“No shit.” Fang scoffed. “Then why aren’t we out there helping him?”

“First of all, I saw him rip a solid metal lock off a door with his bare hands a few hours ago, he can handle himself. And as much as I hate him for leaving us, I trust him.”

Worried, Vanille peeked out from their hiding place. “Will he be okay?”

Fang tugged her back. “We can jump in if we need to, I don’t care what he says.”

“Hush.”

* * *

 

Hope felt a little better knowing that the girls were safe, but not much. He knew they wouldn’t stand by if something happened to him, and he didn’t want to be responsible for any of them getting hurt. Not that he didn’t think they could hold their own, but who knows what Trip brought with him? Even if he brought nothing, he was a dangerous man.

He hoped he had sent them away soon enough, that they hadn’t been noticed. In the case that they had to step in, it would give them the element of surprise. And if not, this would end one-on-one, like it should.

Trip was closing in, but terribly slowly. He wanted to savor this, that was clear enough. At this point, Hope wasn’t human to him, he was stubborn prey, something to be tracked down and defeated. Hope was quickly impatient with his enemy’s game. They’d been playing for weeks, years, really. It had to end.

And it had to end now.

“I know you’re there.” He called into the darkness. Trip paused for a few moments, but only a few. Then he continued his slow prowl.

“You and I both know how this is going to end. Why prolong the inevitable?”

That did it. Trip emerged from the treeline, and boy was that a sight. If Hope didn’t know what used to be there in those eyes, he would be terrified. An animal stood before him. An animal with wild, furious eyes, covered in earth, hair peppered with ash from the explosion he had also survived, and a knife, either rusted or bloody, hanging loosely from his slack hands. He stood tall - taller than Hope - with either confidence or arrogance.

“You’re the one who ran.” He said, voice just as rough as Hope remembered. His lips curled into a snarl. “But you’re right, let’s get this over with.”

“Bare hands against a knife? That’s hardly fair.”

Trip gripped the handle of his blade tightly, brandishing it. “You don’t need it. You’re not even human, you freak.”

Hope could practically imagine Lightning holding Fang back from wherever they were. Probably Vanille, too. Or maybe they were all sitting still, waiting. Either way, they couldn’t get involved here, he had to protect her. ...Them.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re right. I can break your face with two fingers, tear you limb from limb. We don’t need to do this. This can end right now. Just walk away, and no one has to get hurt.”

Trip growled. “That’s not how this works. You have to die.”

Invisibly, Hope prepared himself. “Maybe. But only two people in the world know how to kill me, and the other one is dead. I’m not the one who will die here.”

Trip knew, but he definitely didn’t care, and he was done talking. With a frustrated roar, he lunged.


	7. The Sins We Bear

Even with his preparation, Hope was almost overtaken immediately. He jumped aside at the last second, only suffering a small nick from the wide slash of Trip’s knife. That would be gone before the fight finished. Trip snarled and came at him again, his old training bleeding through the years and calming his movements. Hope dodged again, and again. Time seemed to slow, he knew where his opponent would be before he knew himself.

“We don’t have to do this!” He insisted, ducking under a swung arm and kicking Trip’s legs out from under him. The larger man caught himself and so didn’t fall completely, but it was enough that Hope barrelled into him and shoved him against a tree, trapping him with his arm shoved roughly into his throat. Trip seemed unaffected, but Hope could feel him fighting to cough and breathe. He let up a little, honestly not wanting to kill him. “Isn’t it enough knowing I have to bear my sins for eternity? Every life I’ve taken, every face I’ve left behind. They’re all with me. I can never forget. Death would be a mercy.”

Trip breathed heavily for a few seconds, then spat in his face. “As long as you don’t rest, they can’t either. You have to die.”

“You’re making a mistake. I might not deserve to live, but I have a reason to. I’m not going down easy.”

Cold metal sunk into his chest, and he swore he could hear the girls holding each other back. The pain wasn’t something he hadn’t felt before, unpleasant as it was. He gritted his teeth and held Trip tighter against the tree, yanking the knife free and spilling his own blood. He tasted iron in his mouth, and gave a red smile.  He almost felt a sick kind of pleasure from watching the color drain from Trip’s face. “I told you, you can’t kill me. I’ve tried everything except what works. We don’t have to do this. Just walk away.”

In an effort to persuade him, Hope backed off. Keeping the knife in his hand, however, and ready to defend himself if Trip was just as stubborn as he remembered.

Trip coughed oxygen into his lungs, glaring at him all the while. Beyond his adversary, Hope could see where the girls were hiding. Lightning had Fang by both arms, keeping her from interfering, just as he’d suspected would happen. Vanille, on the other hand, was staring at him in horror. Of course, the two Pulsians didn’t know about their near immortality. They probably thought they were watching him bleed to death. Actually - he winced from the pain and his realization - even though he wouldn’t die, it was really stupid of him to pull out the knife. The blood loss would leave him weaker than he would like if he kept getting himself hurt.

Trip got up again, breathing easier now. “You’re some kind of goddessdamn alien. I’ll cut you apart if I have to!”

He wasn’t going to give up, was he?

In a flash, the two men were wrestling over the knife, an intense bout of tug-of-war, a game that would only be won when one or the other was dead.

It didn’t have to come to this.

Trip’s strength was impressive, considering he was a regular human. He had managed to rip the blade from Hope’s hand and was attempting to force it back into his body. With a surprising amount of difficulty, Hope successfully pried his fingers loose and turned it back on him, prepared to end it.

Until he looked up. As he did, his eyes met Vanille’s - none of the girls were bothering to hide very well anymore - and very clearly saw fear. A fear that ripped his heart in two, he’d seen it so many, many times. Her eyes were open wide, making them look bigger than usual, her hands clamped over her mouth to avoid crying out. He thought he could see her trembling. Was she afraid for him, or... _ of  _ him?

Either way, he wouldn’t make her watch this. Wouldn’t let her. She’d already suffered more than any person should have to.

So, in a feat of strength he hadn’t had to muster in decades, Hope practically threw Trip around, so that his back was facing his friends. The blade was primed, the prey had submitted. He was disgusted with how little of a problem he had with what he was about to do.

“This is a mercy. You died a long time ago.”

* * *

 

They couldn’t see clearly, but all of a sudden, the giant hand grasping the back of Hope’s shirt fell limp, and thumped onto the ground. Hope got up from the body, shaking. He leaned against the nearest tree.

“H-Hope!” Vanille cried, rushing over to him. Her lungs froze and her heart stopped in terror when she saw the blood absolutely covering his front. She reached out to touch him, but hesitated and pulled her hand back. “W-We need to get you help!”

She heard Fang and Lightning coming up to them, but her focus was on the smile across Hope’s face. There was blood in his mouth, too, but she was oddly more concerned with the smile itself. What in the world was there to smile about? “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m pretty sure the wound’s mostly healed already. But I think I’m going to pass out.” He pointed in a meaningless direction, nothing at the end of his finger but the darkness of the night. “That way, there should be a…a...” Hope’s eyes rolled horrifically back into his head, and he collapsed. Vanille froze in panic, but Lightning jumped to his rescue - much to her relief. She soldier set Hope on the ground a bit roughly, clearly frustrated with him. Wait...did she flinch?

“Dammit.” She muttered. “If you’d let me take you  _ home. _ ”

“What’s going on here, Lightning?” Fang said with a hint of demanding the answer. “We just watched someone get killed.”

“I'll explain later.”

Vanille - with much reluctance - glanced at the body. There was enough light for her to see that Hope had left the knife in the man’s chest, and the incredibly large, dark stain around it, but not enough to tell if he was breathing. She hated herself for thinking it, but she almost hoped he was dead. That would mean he wasn't suffering.

“Vanille, what did Hope say to you?”

Slowly unfreezing herself from the shock, she replied, “He told me not to worry, and that there was something,” she pointed in what was hopefully the same direction he had, “that way.”

Silence hung over them for a short while, broken only by Hope’s heavy, unconscious breathing. Then Lightning stood, and taking in the mess of both bodies before her, stepped away from both of them. “The last time I didn't listen to Hope, hell broke loose. Let’s find out what he wanted us to see. But…” she crossed her arms, “I can't touch him.”

“Why not?” Vanille queried, confused. She touched him just now, to catch him, didn't she?

“Look, it just won't end well, okay? Can you two figure out how to carry him? I'll lead.”

Fang snorted. “Sure, leave us to do the hard work. But you still owe us an explanation.” She threw Hope’s arm around her neck and got him at least partially off the ground before grunting, “Damn, kid, you made of rocks? Vanille, help me out.”

Together, they got him almost to his feet, but he was a lot taller than the last time they’d seen him. Vanille knew he’d grown, but it hasn't fully dawned on her until now. He was  _ a lot _ taller than her, and wasn't so boney anymore. He had...substance. She felt her cheeks flush as she wrapped her arm around his waist in an effort to support him.

“Lead on, Sunshine.” Fang encouraged, “Kid’s heavier than he looks.”

“Let’s hope he knows what he’s talking about.” Lightning grumbled, and struck off.

They traveled for about an hour - excluding rest breaks that they took every so often - before coming across anything.

Vanille heard it first; a soft rushing sound, louder than a stream but quieter than a storm. At first she thought her ears were playing tricks on her in the silence of the night time forest, until Lightning said, “Do you hear that?”

“I do.” Fang confirmed. “If this is what Hope meant, it sounds like we're heading in the right direction.”

Hope gave no confirmation nor denial, his head simply lolled toward Vanille as Fang adjusted her grip on him.

One more break and ten minutes later, with the sound getting louder all the time - almost certainly rushing water - they broke free from the trees.

Before them was a small lake, with a modest, double-decker waterfall feeding it from over a moderately high cliff that was relatively nearby, compared to the opposite edge of the lake, which could  _ just _ barely be seen, at least as far as Vanille could tell. Dawn was creeping up on them slowly, so her eyes weren’t the most reliable, given the darkness.

“Let’s stop here, for now.” Lightning decided, shifting her feet a little in the fine sand of the thin, white beach bordering the lake. “We can’t do much until Hope wakes up.”

“Fine by me.” Fang began to lower Hope onto the ground, and Vanille tried to help, but her lifetime friend took all of his weight on herself, so she slipped out from under his arm and stepped away instead.

“I’m going to get some firewood.” Lightning announced shortly, turning on her heel back toward the woods.

“How the hell do you plan on lighting it?” Fang half-teased, adding a bit of melody to her voice. “No brand means no powers.”

The soldier grunted. “The old-fashioned way.” She stalked off very coolly, holding her head high and her hands half-clenched.

“Tsk. What’s her deal all of a sudden?” Fang dipped her toes in the water, pulling a face afterwards when they  _ squelched _ in her sandals. “Not bad. Warm enough to wash up in, anyhow.” She glanced back at Hope. “Better get started.” With no hesitation, Fang stripped down to nothing and stepped in the lake.

Having grown up with her, Vanille wasn’t particularly phased, but she still turned away and sat beside the unconscious man she didn’t know anymore, and yet knew very well. Out of habit, she made sure to tuck her skirt underneath her before joining the beach. But she wasn’t focused on keeping sand out of unsavory places, she was focused on Hope’s slow, deep breathing, his eyes flitting occasionally beneath their lids, the way his mouth was hanging open  _ just _ a little bit. Although, she was rather disturbed by the amount of blood that covered him. She hadn’t seen him this way in...what was evidently, centuries. He wasn’t fighting, he wasn’t afraid. He was just...sleeping. She gently took his hand, the one free from his frozen curse, and let her smaller, softer fingers slip between his worn ones. She found herself smiling. She’d held these same hands what felt like mere days ago, and now here they were. 

“I hope you’re dreaming of something nice…” She murmured, giving his hand a slight squeeze.

For a split second, Vanille thought she felt his fingers tighten around hers, but in the next second she heard rustling in the woods as Lightning returned with her firewood, so she dropped his hand and put both of hers in her lap.

Lightning only stayed long enough to drop her load of wood, and to snort at Fang bathing in the lake. She turned tail back into the forest almost as immediately as she had come.

_ “No brand means no powers,” _ Fang had teased.

Was that true, after all they had been through? It had been so long since Vanille had been a normal girl, despite having hardly aged a day, she almost couldn’t imagine not being able to summon her powers. Maybe she should try?

She almost didn’t need to. She started to reach deep inside herself, where the power to create fire or ice at her fingertips lied, but grasped at nothing. She reached further, deeper, but still came up empty. It was an...odd feeling, like she was missing an arm or something. Hope, Lightning, and the others, did they have this feeling when they first realized they were powerless?

Maybe...maybe not powerless… Vanille looked down at Hope again, at the blood, and remembered so vividly the image of him yanking that knife out of himself like it was nothing.

And Lightning said something about hundreds of years…

“How are you still alive?” She whispered.

Fang sloshed out of the water, barely bothering to dry herself off before putting her clothes back on. “You know,” she mused as she adjusted her belt, “Either Lightning didn’t notice that the sun’s coming up, or she’s just trying to avoid us, because we sure as hell don’t need a fire right now.” She  _ clucked _ her tongue. “She’s an odd one.”

“She’s been through a lot.” Vanille reminded her defensively. The two of them had seen so much while they slept, and a good deal of it was of their new family. She couldn’t remember much, not enough to articulate, but the feelings… She dropped her voice. “Probably more than we know…”

“Yeah, well.” Fang walked over and tapped Hope’s foot with her own. “Anything?”

Vanille shook her head.

Fang knelt beside the two of them; she tugged slightly at his shirt. “Damn, that’s a lot of blood. I hate to say it, but there’s no way he should be alive right now.” She huffed. “When Lightning gets over herself, she better explain what’s going on.”

“Yeah…”

Fang cocked her head slightly. “Hey, you alright?”

Vanille teased her fingers in the sand. “Do you think...do you think he had those dreams, too? Because, I think he did…”

Fang sighed. “If  _ I _ saw bits and pieces, I’m sure he did.” She paused. “I wonder what he saw.”

“What do you mean? We were both trapped, every time.”

“I don’t know… Maybe this is just because I wasn’t really part of it, but I remember him looking so…” Fang glanced at Hope’s face. “I don’t know, destroyed.”

Destroyed?

The two of them sat in silence, staring out at the lake, until Lightning returned again. The soldier added her wood onto the pile she’d started already, but didn’t turn back this time. She stood nearly as still as the branches at her feet, seeming to forget, for a few moments, that anyone else was there.

Finally, she said, “He was eighteen, when he took off.”


	8. Past and Present

Fang stood and crossed her arms. It took long enough, but it seemed that they’d finally be getting some answers.

“Serah was hurt the most, I think.” Lightning continued. “She’d practically adopted Hope. She was convinced something had happened to him, convinced the rest of us, too.” She sighed. “After the first few years of searching, I finally realized that he’d left on purpose.”

“W-Why?” Vanille asked hesitantly, getting to her feet as well. She was wringing her hands.

Lightning sighed. “I have no idea. But after I realized this, I stopped looking for him. I...thought that he’d come back when he was ready. Snow didn’t give up for fifty years-”

“Sounds like him.” Fang muttered.

“-and Sazh kept at it too, for a while.” She huffed a laugh from her nose. “Serah would probably still be looking if they hadn’t started a family.”

“You mean they had a baby!?” Vanille seemed really excited about this prospect. Fang smiled slightly. It wasn’t all that surprising. Snow had gone on and on about having a big family when their l’Cie escapades were finished.

“Well...not exactly.” Lightning crossed her arms tightly. “They can’t have children. They managed to conceive once, but Serah lost it really early on. Snow was away, so he never knew, only Hope and I did.” She paused for a moment. “Anyway, they tried for a really long time, but eventually they agreed that it was hopeless, and they adopted.”

Vanille formed her hands for prayer. “That must have been hard…”

“It was, but they’ve loved all their kids.”

“So...you all gave up on Hope after that?”

Lightning shrugged. “Honestly, I thought he was dead. Serah wanted to give the kids the most normal lives possible, so most of them never even knew about Hope.” She stopped, making a bit of a face. “I think…”

Vanille’s expression dropped, “So, he faded out of your lives…”

“Not entirely. Serah always kept a room in the house for him.”

Fang was done listening. She wanted answers.

“Alright, that’s it.” Fang hit Lightning lightly, just enough to make her turn around, and gestured to Hope, “All this sentiment is lovely, but there’s no use moaning about Hope being gone when he’s right here now, and we can all kick his ass when he wakes up for leaving like that, but  _ how _ the  _ hell _ are you all still alive? We all saw what happened to Hope, he should be  _ cold _ by now, but he might as well be taking a goddess-damn  _ nap _ .”

Lightning gave her a dirty look. “What the hell makes you think  _ I _ know? All I know is that no one but Hope, Dajh, and Serah’s normal kids have aged a day since Cocoon fell, and we’ve had to watch  _ all _ of those kids grow old and die without us because of what  _ you _ started!”

Fire burned in Fang’s core, and it took most of what she had to not hit Lightning for real. “What  _ I _ started?”

“Yes, what  _ you _ started! Don’t you get it?” Lightning gestured widely to her old home; some of her hair got caught in her mouth, which she ignored. “All of that talk about eternal life was true! Crystal or not!”

“Sure as hell sounds to me like you know what’s going on!”

“Please, don’t fight…” Vanille pleaded.

“Stop.” A fourth voice agreed.

They all turned to see Hope pushing himself up to sit, struggling a little, probably a combination of the sand and the loss of blood. Vanille was on her knees immediately to help him. Lightning brushed roughly past Fang, offering Hope her hand. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. He took her hand and was pulled to his feet, already much more stable. “Don’t be mad at Fang, she deserves to know the truth. You all do.”

Fang crossed her arms. “Damn right we do. What happened back there?”

Hope stared out into the trees. “A mistake.” He closed his eyes. “Lightning’s right. As far as I can tell, we’ve been granted eternal life. It took me almost twenty years to figure that out, but it’s true.” He turned his eyes to Fang then, deadly serious. “That stab to the heart was nothing. Even if he’d ripped my heart from my chest, I would’ve only been out for a few days, maybe a week. We regenerate. We can’t die. I’ve tried.”

Vanille took his hand.

Fang raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?” She crossed her arms. “Then why are you all grown up?”

Hope shrugged. “That I couldn’t tell you. But I won’t complain, imagine being fourteen forever?” He shuddered, as if being a child was the worst thing he could imagine.

Fang was suspicious of him. Hope was being way too blasé about all this. She couldn’t deny that what he was saying was true, hell, she’d seen his recovery for herself; but she was still missing important pieces of the puzzle. Why had he left? What was going on with those dreams?

Why was his brand back?

“So, how old are you now?” Vanille wondered, still holding his hand.

Hope rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “You know, I’m not entirely sure. Twenty-something, I think. I didn’t notice I’d stopped aging until quite a while after it happened.”

“Doesn’t it freak you out?”

He chuckled. “No, not really.”

Lightning spoke up, then. “Right, Hope, you should get yourself cleaned up, then we can figure out how we’re getting home.” She threw him a pointed look, daring him to oppose her.

Hope seemed to darken a few shades, but let go of Vanille’s hand and turned to the lake anyway, working on peeling off his blood-soaked shirt. Vanille followed almost immediately, as though they were still attached. Fang glowered at them.

* * *

 

It was a bit of a struggle, but Hope eventually worked out of his shirt. He placed it in the water, hoping to soak out at least some of the blood. He found a decently-sized rock to keep it in place before getting in the water himself.

He could feel Vanille watching him, so he tried to work quickly. Dried blood, however, was pretty stubborn, so he spent several minutes trying to clean it off.

He could hear Vanille shifting her feet, probably uncomfortable with all of his scars. Although he always healed very quickly, serious injuries still left their marks. He knew he probably looked horrendous. Suddenly, he felt very self-conscious, so he moved deeper into the water to hide himself from her. He was starting to attract some fish; he waved them away, not interested in being nibbled.

There was more shifting behind him, and then light splashing of nearly nonexistent waves against skin. Vanille stepped forward until the lake teased the bottom of the bear skin hanging from her belt. Hope turned away, hyper aware of the fact that the discoloration of the water around him wasn’t really from him.

“Hope…”

He couldn’t decide if she sounded sad, or if she was trying to be careful. Either way, he didn’t answer. He just continued to scrub away the blood, wishing to put the past...well, it was nearly daytime now, so it would be safe to wish away the last twenty-four hours. Except for the return of Fang and Vanille, of course. But after they came back, his old brand appeared...were the two connected? Was it maybe...something  _ he _ did?

Vanille touched his shoulder, which was mostly submerged. He flinched slightly “Hope...talk to me… What happened back there? Who was that man?”

Hope sighed. He let himself feel weightless in the water for a little while, debating how much she needed to know. He didn’t want her to have her image of him poisoned by the things he’d done, but how could he really hide? She just witnessed him kill someone. The thought was poison in itself, so he snapped himself out of it and focused on her hand, which was still on his shoulder.

He swatted away a few more fish, how to explain? “The last war ended about ten years ago. I’d always avoided them, hanging out as far away as possible. But this time...I don’t know, something pulled at me. I enlisted. You wouldn’t believe how many people I had to bribe to keep my identity a secret.” Her hand slowly slid from his shoulder. “Anyway, Trip was in my unit.” Here, he hesitated. She’d lived through the War of Transgression, 1,200 years ago. She didn’t need to know what he did. “He was a good man, and a friend, I don’t know what happened, why he hated me and tracked me down, but I wish I didn’t have to kill him. Whatever happened, it made him dangerous, I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else because of me.”

He knew exactly what happened, but the rest of it was true.

Vanille stood quietly beside him for a few minutes. Beyond them, Fang and Lightning could be heard, but not clearly. They were probably catching up.

“Well...it sounds like you didn’t have much choice...I’m sorry…”

_ Don’t be sorry, _ he wanted to tell her,  _ it’s all my fault. Everything… _

He backed away a little to assess the damage to the shirt. Aside from the massive stain and the hole in the chest, it was alright. If he was on his own, he would just discard it, but since the girls were here, at least for now, he’d try to get it as clean as he could.

Vanille stepped out of the water and seemed to debate for a moment about whether or not to put her shoes back on, but in the end, she just picked them up and started digging into the beach with her toes.

Hope watched her as he tried to work the blood out of the shirt. Twice she’d been imprisoned in crystal stasis. While he’d experienced it for a brief time himself, it was not even a fraction of the time she and Fang had been sealed away. How aware were they? What did waking up feel like? Did she crave the feeling of the wind and the earth? Of another person?

He had to shut down that line of thought quickly. He himself craved human contact, on some level. But it seemed that anytime someone touched him, something bad happened. He didn’t want to hurt his friends more than he already had.

The shadow of Vanille’s hand on his shoulder was cold.

As he stood to wring out the shirt, he saw Fang and Lightning coming over from the corner of his eye. He’d have to make a decision, and he’d have to make it fast.

“Alright, kid,” Fang crossed her arms, “How do we get home from here?”

He considered being cheeky - only for about .02 seconds - and pointing the way to Oerba or Cocoon, but he knew what she meant. New Bodhum, or maybe not if they’d changed the name since he left, was the point from which he travelled to wherever he went. He always knew where it was.

Hope sighed. “It’s at least two weeks away by foot.”


	9. Skewing Time

Lightning could tell that Fang was itching to get moving. She was sitting awkwardly on a large rock closer to the forest than the water, tapping her foot on the base in varying degrees of rapidity with her arms crossed tightly. Her eyes trailed Hope and Vanille, who were walking around the water together. Lightning turned slightly to watch them as well, just as Vanille took his hand. Hope didn’t seem to notice.

Fang definitely did, however. She grunted darkly, and stood, taking a few steps closer. “Who does he think he is, huh?”

Lightning almost laughed. “You’re joking, right? Those two have been crazy for each other from the start, this was inevitable.”

Unhappy with that answer, Fang advanced to glaring at them. “Oh, I know.”

Distantly, they could hear Vanille laughing. Hope must’ve said something; Lightning could practically feel him blushing from where she was. Fang clearly had a problem, but she was happy for them. There was enough suffering among the eight of them to give everyone currently alive a really bad day were it spread out. They deserved to be happy. She did have to admit, though, it was extremely odd seeing them like that. They were still kids in her mind.

“Is there something wrong with what they’re doing, Fang? They’re adults.” Lightning asked, contradicting herself.

“I’ve just had a long time to stew, Sunshine.”

“Over what?”

Fang ignored her. “Are you really making us wait until tomorrow? If we’re really two weeks away, we should get moving.”

Lightning made a mental note of Fang’s evasiveness. “Hope has passed out three times and almost died twice in less than a day. I just want to make sure he’s not going to pull any of that on me again. Do you want to spend half the trip dragging him?”

Fang snorted. “Hell no. It’s your turn if he craps out again.”

Lightning’s stomach sank coldly and she shook her head. “I can’t, Fang.”

Hope leapt into the lake and disappeared under the water, making a large splash that showered Vanille. She cried out to him, but didn’t enter the water herself. She started getting nervous after about a minute or so when he didn’t come back up, inching closer to try to find him. Lightning couldn’t help but smile when he did come back up and she started lecturing him about scaring her.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Fang had an eyebrow raised, and hostility still in her gaze. “You were weird about it before, mind explaining?”

_ “I said  _ hit _ me!” He nearly screamed. “Don’t let me do it on my own! Hit me! _ Please! _ ” _

_ He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t breathing, there was so much blood, smoke, it felt like the room was on fire but it was just him, something happened, something was wrong. She stared at her hands in horror. All she’d done was grab his wrist… _

“Everything that’s happened to him since we met again...it’s been my fault.” She sighed. “I’ve just touched his hand, just for a second, and...everything goes wrong.” Lighting clenched her fists. “I’m the reason he was out when you woke up, and before that…”

Fang’s anger seemed to dissolve a little; she placed her hand on her shoulder. “Sunshine, that doesn’t make sense. I’m sure it was a coincidence.”

Lightning shook her head and shrugged away from her. “The truth doesn’t have to make sense. I’m telling you,” she insisted, “it was my fault. So I won’t touch him, unless we figure out what’s going on.”

Hope went underwater again, but stuck his hand up and waved for Vanille to join him. She was visibly against the idea and backed off, but he waved again.

Fang growled. “She can’t swim, dumbass.”

Even though he couldn’t hear her, Hope stood down and continued to swim by himself, leaving Vanille to watch him on the beach.

“I didn’t know she couldn’t swim.”

“She’s embarrassed about it, since Oerba’s on the water. Swimming was just part of our life.” Fang sat back on the rock and crossed her legs. “She used to sneak away to this secret pond we found and try to teach herself. I followed her, of course, to make sure she didn’t drown, but she just couldn’t pick it up. Always real good with kids and animals, though.”

“Her and Serah are a lot alike, you know.” Lightning smiled, if only slightly. “I think they’ll be friends. Serah used to say she wished she’d gotten to know Vanille better, and a chance to meet you.”

“As much as you and Snow prattled on about her, I feel like we already have met.”

* * *

 

Hope discovered that he no longer needed to breathe for anything more than psychological reassurance on total accident. He couldn’t remember exactly when anymore, but it was some time after he realized he was no longer aging - and a long time after he’d left his haphazard family. He was only three or four towns over from New Bodhum, the closest he’d been since he tried to return. Actually, he had been in the town for about a month or two - not yet an unnatural behavior for him - and had become quite popular among the children. They regarded him as a bit of a curiosity, constantly coming up with games to see if he would show them a new trick. The game that day was simple: holding their breath underwater.

The kids went first, fueled by their sense of competition. They made a good try of it, after racing to the water - of course - lasting at least ten to fifteen seconds each, which was pretty good for excited little kids. When it was his turn, he took a big and dramatic breath for their enjoyment before submerging himself. It wouldn’t do to let them down, so even though he knew he wasn’t all that good at holding his breath, he was going to stay below until it got too uncomfortable to do so.

Except...it didn’t.

He only came up once some of the older kids started shaking him. He instinctively took deep breaths as he breached the surface, but found no relief from them. It was extremely disorienting. The children watched him in awe, blown away by his feat of what was apparently about two minutes under the water, though he knew he could have kept going for quite some time.

He tried to not forget their faces.

* * *

 

Hope sat at the bottom of the lake, but only deep enough that if a rabbit sat on his head only the body would be under water. It was funny how solid the wet sand was, and how many tiny currents there were in a lake that seemed so still on the surface; how the plants beneath him clung like death and how many brave little fish were still trying to nibble at him considering how much he’d disrupted their habitat while trying to entice Vanille into the water with him.

He imagined that Vanille, at least, was probably getting worried. He wasn’t moving, and she’d lectured him already for lingering a much shorter period of time. He didn’t mean to upset her, but being with her, anyone, again was...confusing. Especially paired with the reappearance of his brand. He’d spent the past six centuries running away. From his friends, from himself, from his dreams, from his guilt, from the impact he’d helped make on the world and on everyone he met. But now, everything had caught up with him, which he knew, somewhere deep inside, that they would eventually.

Even so, he didn’t know how to handle it. It had been so long that a part of him thought he could keep up his way of life forever, or at least until he could work up the courage to take himself out. He was a coward, he knew he was. There was no real reason to be afraid of returning to New Bodhum. Despite the pain and anger the others likely felt, despite how much they all - not just him - had changed and done. Lightning was enough proof for the logical side of him that there would be acceptance behind that anger, relief behind the pain. In all honesty, his fear, his reason for leaving, were undiagnosable diseases with similar symptoms. Perhaps that was another symptom in itself.

He had no answers.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t Vanille, so he elected to ignore it, until he felt nails. Then he rose, and shook his head like a dog, wiping the water from his eyes.

“Do all of your powers involve scaring the shit out of people?”

He grunted and turned to Fang. “Only because I’m somehow the only one who knows about them.”

Her arms were crossed. “You could’ve told Vanille you can’t drown.”

“I tried to show her.”

“If you knew her, you’d know she can’t swim.”

Hope frowned. “Where did this come from? She never told me, it’s not my fault. And besides, I didn’t force her to come in with me, she stayed on the sand.”

Fang’s eyes burned, kindled by what he had no clue. “I want you to leave her alone. You need to get your shit together. You’ve been a selfish coward from the start, and I’m not going to let you play with her heart.”

Her words were harsh but true, aligning with his own opinions of himself. Although what prompted her anger was unknown, Hope found himself backing down rather than defending himself. “You know what? You’re right. I’m the worst of us. I’m a mess. And I don’t want to hurt Vanille, or any of you, more than I already have,” his expression hardens, “but neither of us can control Vanille. I’ll do my best not to hurt her, but if she wants to see me, I won’t stop her.”

Fang splashes at least one step forward. “You obviously didn’t hear me. I told you to stay away.”

“She’s an adult, Fang.”

The two stared each other down. If the tension between them were physical, the lake would boil. Hope unintentionally employed his most effective tactic to make an enemy uncomfortable and stopped breathing. It was unnatural for a body to be so still yet clearly alive, and he’d found that making people uncomfortable was extremely valuable, especially when they’re unable to understand what is so wrong. Sure enough, Fang stood down first, with a half-scowl and a grunt.

“I’ve got my eye on you, kid.”

She was a shark pushing through the water and became a cat when she hit the sand, ignoring the natural obstacles and effortlessly stalked back to where Lightning and Vanille were stood, watching the whole incident.

Hope sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! If you've gotten this far, I hope you're enjoying the story. I've certainly enjoyed bringing a significant piece of mine back to life. I just wanted to pop in and say that next week's chapter (that would be 10) is the last of my pre-written ones, and so after that I can't guarantee a consistent update, but I will try! At the very least, chapter 11 should be up on schedule because it's nearly completed.
> 
> Personally, I am really excited about chapter 10, because it contains one of my favorite scenes ^-^
> 
> Anyway, feel free to leave a comment and all that jazz, feedback is really appreciated! See you next week!


	10. Breaching the Surface

Moving forward, the day was altogether less eventful than the previous night, which came as a relief to Vanille...and no one else. Fang couldn’t sit still, Lightning could but her hands were always doing something. And Hope…

Vanille kept an eye on him, and a hand more often than not. He was acting a bit distant, and she knew it was because of Fang. Because they argued. She wanted to be angry. She’d just asked Fang to make sure he was okay under the water because she couldn’t go in that deep, and she’d turned it into a lecture.

_ I know why you’re doing this, Fang. But Hope isn’t like that. He won’t hurt me. _

He was in the water again, this time trying to catch a fish because she’d complained of being hungry. He told her it was all mental, that she wouldn’t need food anymore, but that he’d get her something to eat anyway. She wasn’t sure how he was going to catch anything without a rod, but he assured her it could be done. She remained on the beach, teasing sand through her fingers and toes, reflecting like the clouds on the lake’s surface.

So...they were immortal. Maybe to an extent, but since Hope and the others were still alive these six hundred years later, this was a fact she could not ignore. She tried not to think about how long ago she’d been born, how many times the sun had set since she and Fang were little girls in Oerba. It was strange...it was strange how  _ not _ strange all of this was to her. She’d been alive for over a millennium. Death had become somewhat of a myth to her, as passing and fantastical a dream as being unreasonably wealthy. Learning that she’d once again skated by it wasn’t nearly as surprising or spiritually challenging as it should have been. Time for her was skewed as well. What was ancient history for the people now was fresh in her mind. The War of Transgression, The Fall of Cocoon…

Gran Pulse as it once was.

What were they to do with themselves? Hope chose to run, Lightning chose to cling to what she knew and understood. She and Fang were once again thrust into a culture far far advanced past what  _ they _ understood. There was so much technology they’d have to learn all over again, social cues, everything… What if Hope had the right idea? Just running from it all and -

No. She’d promised she wouldn’t run anymore.

Hope came up to her then, dripping with water and victory, a waggling fish in his hand. “Told you I could do it,” he said, “though it’s been awhile since I’ve prepared one of these, and it’s not like we have plates or anything…”

“It’s alright,” Vanille said quickly, “I can cook it if we get a fire started, you’ve already done enough.”

Hope hesitated for a second. “Yeah, okay.”

It was kind of funny, cooking with Hope. Of course he insisted on helping, that part of him hadn’t changed, but it was like cooking with a child. He was so clumsy and out of practice, Vanille started to worry.

“When...when was the last time you ate?” She asked quietly. Hope didn’t react for a moment, instead taking the fish and spearing it through with a stick.

“You know, I don’t think I remember.” He handed her the cooked fish with a slight frown. “Probably a few decades ago. I don’t see the point in eating when I don’t have to, and the regular people actually need it.”

His comment stopped her with the fish part way into her mouth. Almost as if telling a cruel joke, her stomach growled.

Hope realized what he said and raised his hands a bit. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. You’ll probably want to eat still, and that’s okay. I’ve just gotten used to not eating, I’m sure the others still do. They never had a reason not to.”

“Can you really say that?” Vanille countered. “I don’t think either of us know what happened to them.”

Hope looked hurt, and Vanille slowly lowered the fish further from her mouth in shame. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, but it was true. They’d both spent the past six hundred years in their own heads, in each other’s heads, not with the others. It was almost as if they’d been in different worlds. The two of them, Fang, Lightning and the rest of their family.

If he’d seen at all…

“I don’t want to go back.” Hope said. She almost missed it, but his voice broke at the end. “It’s stupid, because I know they’ll take me back. I know they miss me, I  _ know… _ ” He poked at the fire and stared into the flames. His eyes looked grey then, the smoke for the clean flames reflected in them. “But it’s… I just…”

He stood abruptly, practically shaking from uncomfortable nervous energy. “I’ll take you three back, but you’ll have to tell Serah I’m alive. I’m sorry.”

* * *

 

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? He knows we’re not stupid.”

“I’m sorry, but good people don’t abandon their families for six  _ hundred _ years, Sunshine.”

Lightning crossed her arms, frowning as she tapped her foot against the nearest tree. Having nothing else to do, Fang suggested that they take a walk, which quickly turned into her bitching about Hope. She got it, Fang was protective of Vanille, that was understandable, but Hope was probably the most harmless human being on the planet.

Except maybe to himself. Half his body was painted in scars, and she couldn’t be sure that some of them weren’t of his own doing. Something he said earlier... 

Regardless, he’d never hurt Vanille.

“Since when was this about good people?” She retorted. “Hope’s always been a good person, even if he does have a few screws loose. We all do.”

“I just can’t understand why he’s being so evasive about this. Honestly, I think he’s full of shit.” Fang raises an eyebrow. “Are we  _ really _ a week out?”

Lightning shrugged, shaking her head. “How should I know?”

...But she  _ should _ , shouldn’t she? She didn’t just teleport into the middle of the woods with a bunch of trainees, there would’ve been a lot of coordination and planning. She should know their exact location and approximately a ten mile radius around that. Nearby settlements, bodies of water like this lake, any potential nesting areas of dangerous creatures. She should  _ know _ this, but she was barely aware of where her camp was from here.

Seeing the look on her face, Fang clapped a remorseful hand to her shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be like that. It’s just been so long since Vanille and I have  _ really _ seen any of you.” Fang’s hand dropped to Lightning’s waist, and her stomach splashed to the sand. “You have no idea how hard it is, being trapped in crystal so long, inside your own head… Just watching...”

Her fingers tightened, and Lightning realized how lonely she must’ve been. Her, Hope and the others, they’d been in crystal stasis for a very short time, hardly long enough to realize that it happened at all. Fang and Vanille, they were freed for the blink of an eye the past millennia, just long enough to finally bring Cocoon to its knees. They probably hadn’t even adjusted to being alive again before they were thrust back into limbo.

“That must have been an unimaginable hell, I’m sorry.” Lightning wasn’t the comforting type, but neither was Fang, so she figured the simple gesture of touching her friend’s arm would be enough.

The corners of Fang’s lips curled up for a split second, and her own grip relaxed. “Look, I know you care about the kid, but I don’t plan on letting Vanille go back again. I have to protect her, even if she doesn’t like it. He’s  _ dangerous _ , Sunshine, you just refuse to see it.”

Lightning fell back, feeling cold in her bones and a shadow where Fang’s hand used to be. Betrayal was clear in the woman’s green eyes. “He’s not dangerous, Fang. Not to us. Not to her.”

“He just  _ killed _ someone!”

“You saw what happened, he was defending himself, and it’s not like either of us have clean hands.”

Fang scoffed, wiping her hand on her leg. “I can’t believe I thought you’d understand. There’s something going on here, Lightning, open your eyes.”

Lightning pressed her lips tight in agitation. “I know. I’m not blind. Hope’s been acting strange since before he ran off in the first place.” She grabbed Fang’s wrist, flinching away when Hope’s screams burned in her ears. “But he’s not going to open up if you treat him like an enemy. We need him to trust us if we’re going to figure anything out.”

“Trust  _ us _ ?”

“Yes, trust  _ us _ .” Lightning sighed. “Just try not to bite his head off, and I’ll deal with him. He’s been alone too long, but I know I can bring him around.” Ignoring the pain in her ears and her heart, she offered her hand to Fang. “If you can’t trust him, then trust me.”

There was a silence that dampened the birds, and even the waterfalls. Fang’s mouth twitched, and Lightning could practically see the two halves of her warring behind that familiar determined mask. There was something going on with her too, something beyond Hope’s behavior. It was dark and deep and boiling, stewing for hundreds of years, only now bubbling to the surface.

Eventually she relented, going all-in with a smirk, weaving her fingers through Light’s. “Alright, I trust you. But if he does  _ anything _ to hurt Vanille—”

“Then we’ll kick his ass together.” They both smiled with varying levels of force. “Let’s finish this walk, you need to cool off.”

Fang snorted. “Sure, whatever.” She pulled Lightning by the hand and started chattering on about anything other than Hope and Vanille, apparently eager for the distraction.

* * *

 

They still hadn’t returned by nightfall, and Vanille was starting to get worried. She hadn’t said anything, but he could tell. As much as she liked to think she was hard to read, she wasn’t. Especially not to him. She was uncharacteristically still, and silent, blankly watching him stack shells.

When his tower toppled after a measly five, Hope gave up trying to distract himself and started to toss the shells back into the water. The splashes were soft enough at first, hardly a drip, but the last shell — his base, nearly as big as his hand — landed flat, and that splash was loud enough to startle Vanille from her trance. So he took the opportunity.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The blank look didn’t quite leave her eyes right away, until she shook her head, twisting her fingers into a pigtail. “I’m fine.”

“I know you’re worried about them.” Hope scooted closer to her, forcing sand to shift and pile around his legs. “Vanille, they’re okay, I’m sure Fang just wanted to stretch her legs. She hasn’t used them in a while.” He instantly regretted his pathetic attempt at a joke, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“No, I know, it’s just…”

Hope put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. “You know you can talk to me, if you need to. I’m sure there’s a lot of things you need to work through.”

“Not as much as you.” She looked over at him, searching his face. For what, he didn’t know. “I… we saw a lot of it, Hope. What you went through all alone. I wanted so badly to wake up and help you, I didn’t…”

There was something more she wanted to say, it hung thick in the air between them. This felt wrong. He’d never had such a hard time getting her to talk to him, had she seen something that changed the way she saw him? Hope got to his knees, shuffling to sit back on his feet in front of her. “Hey, look…” He took her hands and settled them between their laps. “Everything that happened to me, everything that’s  _ going _ to happen to me, it’s all my fault. I left the others, I chose this path.”

Vanille seemed to choke, leaning forward, “But Hope, that’s not true. It’s not your fault you’re out here.” She set one of her hands free, and for a brief moment, apparently considered reaching out for his face. She swallowed. “It’s mine. I made you chase after Snow. If—if it weren’t for me…”

“Don’t you dare,” he said softly, shaking his head, “don’t you dare blame yourself, Vanille. A thousand things went wrong that day. Any number of them could have led me to becoming a l’Cie. Who knows if I even needed to be in the Vestige?” He rubbed his thumb slowly over the hand he still held. “I don’t regret anything that happened before Cocoon fell. Because we followed Snow, I met all of you.”

She wasn’t convinced. He could feel her trembling and her eyes fell once more to the sand. He wasn’t going to be able to convince her that this wasn’t her fault. She’d probably been telling herself that it was for centuries. To her, it was undeniable truth.

He set his lips in a straight line, then stood, loosening into a smile and although he let her hand go, he offered his for her to take again. “Let me show you something. But you’ll have to trust me.”

She watched as he took a step back, dipping his heels into the edge of the water. He saw the fear flicker in her eyes, but also a spark of determination. “I trust you.” She took his hand very tightly, stiff in her apprehension but she followed as he stepped back further, until their waists were all but submerged.

“Just hold your breath.” Hope said calmly. “It’s going to feel strange at first, but I promise you don’t need air. I won’t let go. I just want you to see.”

They were in up to their chests. A cloud passed overhead and just as he suspected, the moon was full and bright. Just bright enough for her to mostly see what he could in the day. He made a show of holding his breath, and waited for her to do the same before pulling them in further.

Vanille clung fast to his body, but to her credit she managed to keep her eyes open. He didn’t force her too deeply into the lake, didn’t force her at all. When she started to cling even tighter, he stopped, and simply pointed down.

Leading down to the lakebed, which was too far for them to see, was practically another world. The plant life grew thicker as it went along and a colorful variety of fish mingled through, of such shapes he was used to now but he did not remember existing on Cocoon.

Admittedly, it seemed impossible that such a small lake would have so many fish right where they could see, but it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d experienced on Pulse. Vanille relaxed a little, allowing herself to float a few inches apart from him, even reaching out a hand to a brave little fish that decided to investigate them. It zipped away instantly, of course, but she still smiled.

Taking a chance, Hope began to drift forward, just a little, slow enough to give her plenty of time to signal “no.” She didn’t, but he soon stopped anyway. This was a big step for her, he didn’t want to push her too far.

What scared her turned out not to be the water itself, but another little fish.

It was a vibrant red color, probably the size of one of Snow’s hands, and seemed to come out of nowhere. In a flash, it swam right in front of their faces, turning almost robotically soon after, disappearing between the swaying plant life.

Vanille froze, her mouth falling open in silent horror. She wouldn’t drown, but Hope did not hesitate to take her by the waist and bring her back to the surface, back to where they could both stand. She coughed and sputtered, but that quickly turned to broken sobs.

Unsure what else to do, he held her gently and just… let her cry. She didn’t seem to want to hold him back, but she didn’t push him away either so they stood, cloaked in moonlight and soaking wet until she spoke.

“I’m sorry.” Vanille brought her hands out of the water and tried to wash her face, sniffling. “I’m sorry, Hope, I don’t—I’m sorry…”

“No, Vanille, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Hope let her go, only to leave his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever’s wrong, it’s okay. Let me help.”

“I can’t, I can’t…”

Frowning, he nudged her chin up so she was looking at him. He couldn’t bear the red in her eyes, he’d seen it so many times, locked away from her as she died. If he could do something for her now, he would. He had to. “Talk to me, Vanille.” He urged gently. “Tell me what’s wrong…”

She shook her head, but only once. After that she crumbled back into him and shuddered with every breath. She locked her arms tight around him, as if to make this easier for her. Bunches of his shirt were wrung by her hands, sending rivulets down his back. “I can’t lose you again.” Her voice trembled, face pressed closer to his beating heart. “I saw it, so many times. You were in so much pain—I tried, I tried so hard to save you…”

His breath caught in his chest, shock almost unlocking his hands behind her back. She… had the dreams too, even in crystal? About  _ him? _ Perhaps that explains… He almost never remembers them clearly, just her. Her presence, her grief and pain. Was it all real? Were they on opposite sides of the same gil?

Had they really been together all this time?

Hope nodded slowly, rested on the top of her head. “I know how you feel, Vanille. I saw the same thing, only it was you who was dying. I stopped sleeping, I thought I could protect you…”

“You stopped—” Vanille pulled back just enough to look up at him. Her eyes shone like jewels. “ _ Hope _ …”

“Don’t feel bad for me, I haven’t needed sleep since I was fourteen.” He tried to smile for her, but she still looked horrified. It seemed she’d need more time to understand how all of this worked. “I would do it all again if it meant you could be safe, Vanille.” He traced his thumb softly along her cheek, unable to resist. “I traveled all of Pulse for centuries trying to find a way to bring you back, I left our family, I—”

It was a good thing neither of them needed to breathe, because her next move knocked all the air from his lungs. She came close yet again and before he could blink he was tasting the lake from her lips.

“You’re an idiot.” Vanille whispered, hovering millimeters away.

“I know.” Eyes closed, hands frozen to her, Hope prayed for this moment to last as long as it could. “I know, I’m sorry. I was young, and stupid, and…” He sighed, her fingers shifted slightly. “It’s too late now, Vanille. In searching for you, I… I lost everyone else. Serah, she…”

He hadn’t cried since he was young, but he recognizes the feeling in his throat. Serah treated him like a little brother, like a son. Despite the fact that he lived with his father, he had his own room at her house and she made sure to talk to him all the time, keep him in the loop. He knew everyone else would be okay, but he also knew that his leaving would break her heart.

“It’s never too late, Hope.” Vanille took his face in her hands and kissed him again, for a few extra seconds. “You spent all this time looking for me, didn’t you? Isn’t that what you believed?”

“I don’t know what I believed.” Hope took a deep breath, and then her wrists, gently, eyes still shut tight. “I just… I needed to find you, to save you, to see you…”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“It’s selfish.” He admitted sheepishly. “And a little stupid, but… I’m afraid that this moment will end if I do. I’ve only ever dreamed about being this close to you. And those never ended well…”

“It doesn’t have to end, Hope. At least…” Vanille’s hands drifted back down to his shoulders. “I don’t want it to, either.”

Hope swallowed, throat dry, overly aware of the heat from her body, the pressure of her fingertips against his bones.

“Would you promise me…” His hold tightened on her wrists, her heart beat in his palms. “Promise me that you’ll be here when I open my eyes.”

She breathed; soft, amused. “I promise, Hope.”

She kept her promise.


	11. Why We Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, a little late! But I was determined to get this chapter out this week, so here you go!

“So you kids must be some kinda crazy celebrities, huh?”

Lightning shrugged, twirling a twig in her fingers. “Used to be, people treat us more like breathing history books now. Having immortals among them is less of a treat after a few generations.”

“Really?” Fang shook her head. “Didn’t know people were so evolved, thought they’d’ve poked and prodded you trying to figure out how to take it for themselves.”

“As if we would’ve let them. Goddess, after a week I was ready to find some cave up in the mountains. Hell, if it weren’t for Serah, Hope…” Lightning stopped, held the little twig up against the moon, the way she used to stare through Serah’s crystal tear, “I might have. They were still just kids.”

“But you didn’t just stay.” Fang took her wrist and dragged it down, forcing her eyes back from the moon. “You went back to the military, which is what I don’t understand. They tried to  _ kill _ us, Sunshine. All of us. Why the hell would you go back?”

“It was the only thing I knew.” Fang’s grip was gentle, so she didn’t fight back, even though most of her instincts were screaming at her. What happened to Hope wouldn’t happen here, she had to keep reminding herself of that. “The only way I could help.”

“I guess I understand that.” Fang sighed. She let go. “Just seems like you would’ve lost your taste for it. All the fighting.”

“Have you?”

She barked. “Alright, you got me there. Just give me a reason and I’d beat the shit outta something right now. But there’s a big difference between you and I.” Her arms crossed, and when she shifted her weight her face fell into the moonlight. “I’m only older than you by technicality, love, you’ve actually been  _ living _ all this time. I’ve got twenty-one years in my head, you have six hundred. I wouldn’t go comparing us so quick.”

“Maybe that’s one way to look at it.” Lightning’s memories were all jumbled up inside, she could hardly tell one century from the next. After a while, things started to… blur. People, places, births, deaths. “Let’s get back, I’m sure Vanille’s worried about you.”

Fang snorted. “Sure, if she’s taken her eyes off your golden boy.”

“Fang, stop, we talked about this.”

“I’m just saying.”

_ Just saying _ . Honestly.

Lightning turned back toward the lake and started walking, not much caring if Fang followed her or not. How Hope and Vanille felt about each other was their business, and had, frankly, been quite obvious for a very long time.

She heard Fang following her eventually, and chose to continue to ignore her. Whatever her problem was with Hope—beyond his feelings for Vanille—that would have to get worked out later. Her focus at the moment was to  _ get him home _ . Nothing else mattered in her mind, not her memory gaps, not the miracle of Vanille and Fang’s return, not even the explosion— _ that _ she was ignoring until she was able to report it.

“Sunshine.” Fang called out, jogging to catch up. “Lightning, I’m sorry, I know how much you care about the kid, but I just don’t trust him. You didn’t trust Snow with Serah, right? Don’t you get it?”

She got it, but that wasn’t the problem. “It’s not the same thing, Fang.”

“The hell it isn’t, she’s my little sister and he’s some idealistic kid who thinks he can fix everything. Where is the difference?”

Lightning huffed. She didn’t want to keep having this argument, she didn’t have the energy. “Look, Snow and Serah were kids, but it’s literally been hundreds of years. You call Hope a kid,” she shook her head, “he hasn’t been a kid since he left his dad in Palumpolum. And if he still cares for her after all this time, don’t you think that means something?”

That ended the conversation yet again. Fang stormed off, muttering something about just trying to apologize, with Lightning in her wake this time. It wouldn’t be long until they reached the lake, they had essentially been wandering in circles.

Lightning’s eyes stayed locked to Fang’s back as they walked, drifting occasionally to her shoulder where her frozen Brand used to be. She thought there must be something she wasn’t saying, something deeper than just wanting to protect Vanille, if that was even possible. There was a desperate element to her protests, a darker energy brewing behind her eyes and teeth. An energy she wasn’t sure she’d seen in Fang before, or maybe it had always been there, and she’d never paid attention. A little guilt sprouted in her chest, because she knew that was entirely possible.

The earth started mixing with sand almost as soon as the treeline broke, and the beach was beneath her boots, between Fang’s toes. They were on the opposite end from where they’d left Hope and Vanille, they would only need to follow the curve of the water to return to them.

The frustration between the two of them dissipated in the cool silence of the night, and soon enough they were side by side again, close enough for brushing hands. Lightning caught Fang glancing her way many times, but chose to hold her tongue. She didn’t want to fight anymore. Goddess, she and Vanille were finally  _ free _ ,  _ really _ free, why was she fighting? It seemed impossible that they could even be doing this, walking together again, but here they were. They should… they should be celebrating, not whatever this was.

She’d tried not to think about Fang and Vanille. She told herself it was for the benefit of the others, so they could move on, but the truth was that it was too hard. Since the death of her parents, Lightning had never had friends outside of her sister. It was stupid, but she’d felt comfortable calling Fang a friend by the end, and losing her to such a cruel fate was painful. It hurt in a different way than losing her sister had, and if she were to be honest, was part of the reason she’d joined the military again. She had to  _ do _ something.

Hope’s leaving made more sense all the time.

At some point, the air to her right went cold. She stopped, turning slowly, drifting through the sand. Fang stood about ten feet back, staring silently over the water.

“Fang?”

“Did you miss me, Sunshine?”

“What?”

Fang grunted, shaking her head. Her hand tightened against her waist. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Right.” Lightning crossed her arms, settling back onto her right foot. “I did miss you, Fang, for what it’s worth. We all did.”

“‘ _ What it’s worth _ ?’” Fang turned to her with heavy eyes which might have held the mists of tears she’d never allow to shed. She choked on a wet gasp. “Everything, Lightning. Vanille and I have only ever had each other. You know what that's like, don't you?” She started to shake her head in short cycles, the fist at her side open but still stiff. “In a sick way, I’m really glad you all are still alive. I don’t think I could lose everything again.”

“We lost  _ you _ .” Lightning's voice was soft, but she resisted the part of her that wanted to take Fang's hand. “We never forgot, Fang. We celebrated you and Vanille every year, every day, for what you did. I'm pretty sure Serah's kids learned more about you in the house than they did at school.”

“Heh, school. Who'da thunk?” She took a deep breath and crossed her arms tightly over herself. “Thanks, Lightning.”

“I mean it.” She would have elbowed Fang, but they weren't standing that close, so she just made the gesture. “Everyone will be really happy to see you again.” She took a half-step back. “Come on, let's go.”

“Uh, first...” Fang was cut off by Lightning's outstretched hand, held like an offering. A smile flickered on her lips and soon they were walking hand-in-hand down the beach. Lightning slipped away after a little while, but they didn't drift very far. They walked in silence and listened to the water lap against the night.

Lightning had made an effort every once and a while to make new friends, mostly under Serah's insistence. She didn't remember most of them, but most of the time it hadn't been real, anyway. People liked her because she was famous, her family was famous. More than that, they were  _ immortal _ . When she told Fang before that people didn't care as much any more, that was true, collectively, but once you got one-on-one with someone, suddenly they had all kinds of uncomfortable questions.

She's sure there were some over the years that she could tolerate, some that she may have even been close to.

But there had never been anyone like Fang. That she knew for sure.

“So, when we get back…” Fang glanced sideways at her. “What do we do? I mean…” She took a long step, sweeping her foot over the water, just breaking the surface with the bottom of her shoe. “I don't think I know how to live anymore. I've always been fighting something. For food, for my Focus,  _ against _ my Focus. Even I know I can't do that forever.”

“I used to think that we could.” Lightning said. “Maybe that’s why I stuck with the military, some way of tricking myself into thinking there was still something I needed to fight. I must have trained millions of idiots like me.” She chuckled softly. “But you know what? They never let me fight. I get shot  _ once _ , on accident by some kid, and they get so scared they’re going to lose one of the ‘saviors of mankind’ that I never saw real combat.”

“Really? Their loss.”

“Yeah, well, this was after Hope disappeared, and they thought he was dead, so they weren’t going to take any chances.” Lightning paused. “Anyway, if you can’t fight, you have to find something to live for. So… live for yourself, or Vanille, or whatever makes sense.”

Fang stared distantly over the moonlit water, perhaps searching for her something. It would take her time, Lightning knew, a lot of damn time, but she’d figure it out.

They were getting close to their little makeshift campsite, any minute now they’d find Hope and Vanille again and this intimacy they’d developed would disappear. Not because they wanted it to, but that’s the kind of people they were. Lightning wasn’t sure if she’d miss it or not.

Fang slowed down. Maybe she was thinking the same thing.

“What do you live for, Sunshine?”

She expected that question, yet she still didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, really. Hope and Serah, for a while. Work, probably.”

Fang hummed to herself. Lightning watched her think, veering distractedly into the water more than once. She wondered what Fang was like before the war, before all this happened to her. Fighting looked as natural on her as it sounded like it felt. She was graceful, calculated, strong, probably stronger than her. She’d find something to live for, there was no doubt there.

“I guess I have forever to figure it out.”

“Yeah, I guess you do.”

Though they’d slowed their pace, they came upon the camp soon enough. The fire that had been there when they left was just embers now, and that’s where Lightning’s gaze went. But Fang saw something else, something more, and the next few moments moved by as slowly as they did quick.

Hope and Vanille were stood a short way into the lake, dripping wet from the water with their arms around each other. They were very,  _ very _ close. It was obvious what they had been doing.

Beside Lightning, Fang snarled, her hands balled into fists. She barely had time to grab her friend by the wrist before she attempted to lunge at them.

“What in the  _ hell _ are you doing!?”


End file.
